Private Full Circle

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Bonadan - The Vergeworks - Sector 9G

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

It had been almost a year since Acier last set foot in the Vergeworks. Sector 9G. His old stomping grounds. Home. The same rusted stalls, over-fried noodles, blinking neon signs half-flickering out of sync. The polluted air clung to his skin like memory, thick with grease, metal, and desperation. It hadn't changed.

But he had. No longer the same orphaned street rat, scraping for survival, a nobody - he was a Verd, the son of a Sith Lord, brother of Mand'alor. And now, he was stronger in the Force. He was powerful. Someone. And he wasn't going to keep running. Hiding. Not anymore. Ace hadn't come home for the pleasantries, he'd come back to finally put an end to his feud with Tessk.

As Ace passed the maze of stalls. He caught glimpses of faces he swore he knew - silhouettes etched into memory. But no one spared him a second look. Memories of his childhood flashed in his mind with every step he took. He remembered being six, conning and pickpocketing with the other kids at the orphanage. There was another memory, he was twelve, cruising through the strip with Red eagerly listening to one of his many stories. Fourteen, elbow deep in a busted repulsor engine with Mira, listening to her life advice.

"Ace...?"

The voice was hesitant, almost unsure. Acier turned to face the direction of whoever had recognized him. A boy, no... a young man now, stood near a crate filled with who knows what. Kiffar, slim, tan jacket and tattoos down his neck.

"Risk? That you?"

Risk grinned at the confirmation, teeth were chipped just the same "Knew it was you, Snowhead! Didn't think I'd see your mug again."

"Yeah, well... here I am." Ace offered a quick nod, but didn't slow down.

Ace and Risk weren't close, the Kiffar was a couple years Ace's senior - stupid too. Despite the small age gap, Ace found himself begrudgingly helping Risk out of situations he'd gotten himself into. Still, it was good to see him strangely enough. Maybe it was the nostalgia.

"What're you doing back here, Snowhead? You know Tessk still wants your head on a stick." he muttered, leaning in to make sure no one could hear.

"Exactly why I'm here." he responded curtly.

Risk blinked "What? Are you crazy?!" he exclaimed in a hushed tone "A lot's changed since you've been gone, man. Tessk runs the Vergeworks now."

"Don't matter to me."

Risk exhaled, almost like a laugh. "You got bigger. And braver... or stupider."

"You got older."

"Yeah… we all did. Just not all of us got out."

Ace finally stopped. He looked at Risk, really looked at him - the wear in his eyes, the way he kept glancing over his shoulder like old habits had never died. It was easy to forget that they were cut from the same cloth. Both in circumstance and upbringing. Ace rummaged through his pockets and placed a sum of credit chits in Risk's palm.

"You should clear out, Risk. It'll look bad if any of Tessk's snitches see you with me."

Risk closed his hand, offering Ace a real smile before nodding "You've changed. Normally you were the quiet, crafty one trying to avoid trouble. Not start it."

Ace turned his head, looking toward where he needed to go, clenching his fists "Yeah, well. Sometimes you need to start trouble to finish it."

Rheyla Tann
​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

The air in Sector 9G hadn’t improved since the last time she was here. Still tasted like burnt coolant and old stimsticks, laced with that industrial tang that clung to your skin no matter how many showers you took after. Rheyla tugged her scarf higher, one lekku twitching under the wrap as she sidestepped a leaking fuel drum and ducked beneath a buzzing neon sign that read SHRIMP (PROBABLY).

It was the kind of place where everything was too loud and too quiet at once. Crowds pressed in, but everyone kept to their own lane. Eyes down, credits tight, mouths shut.

Perfect for a quick drop.

She slipped into the shadowed alley between a spice den and a droid chop shop, where her contact was already waiting—a jittery Rodian named Vesso who looked like he hadn’t slept in three rotations.

“Y-you got it?” he stammered, glancing over his shoulder like the alley walls were listening.

Rheyla tilted her head. “You got my credits?”

He handed over a small chit. She caught it, didn’t even bother hiding the way she held it up to the flickering light and checked the amount.

“Short me,” she said flatly, “and I’ll start asking where your real boss is. Bet they don’t stutter as much.”

Vesso’s breath hitched. “N-no shorting! Just—just tight margins lately, yeah? Fragging tariffs and—”

She handed over the crate before he could finish. Sealed, unmarked, and still humming faintly from the cold unit inside. She didn’t ask what was in it. He didn’t offer.

“Next time,” she said, already turning to go, “send someone less twitchy. You’re gonna give yourself a stroke.”

She left him there muttering to himself and stepped back into the main thoroughfare. The street opened up ahead—louder now, the crowd thicker. Blinking signs, cheap synth music, vendors hawking everything from bootleg spice to roasted gizka on sticks. Somewhere, a pair of security droids barked orders in binary and shoved a drunken Nikto into the gutter.

Her stomach growled.

Stars, when was the last time she ate?

She adjusted the strap on her hip—blaster riding low, knives where they belonged—and let herself blend into the slow-moving tide of bodies. The scent of fried something hit her from across the lane, and she locked on like a predator.

She passed a figure heading the other way—blue jumpsuit, silver hair, familiar height.

Didn’t register.

Not consciously.

Just another shadow in a place built from them.

She brushed past without looking back.

The food stall was still there, miraculously. A dented durasteel counter built into a wall with a half-functioning vent hood, and a small, hunched Besalisk behind it flipping skewers with one hand and pouring caf with another.

“Rheyla,” he grunted without looking up. “Didn’t think you’d come back.”

She dropped a few credits on the counter and leaned on her elbows. “Didn’t think your place would still be standing.”

He snorted. “What’ll it be?”

“Nerf skewer, double spice. And stimcaf. Extra stim.”

“Rough day?”

“Haven’t slept. Haven’t eaten. Just finished babysitting a crate of whatever-the-hell that vibrates when you touch it.”

The Besalisk just grunted again, the smell of sizzling meat hitting her like a slap.

Rheyla let out a quiet sigh and stared into the street behind her—unaware of who she’d just passed, and how quickly the past had decided to catch up, before turning her attention back to her old friend.

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Bonadan - The Vergeworks - Sector 9G

​

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

Acier didn't notice the food stall across the strip. Didn't see the Twi'lek with her back to the street. He didn't even smell the skewers sizzling behind the durasteel counter. Ace's attention was forward, and focused.​

​

It didn't take long, but he felt something. A shift in the Force. Or, a 'disturbance', as some would call it. Ace stopped in place, the river of people continued to pass him as he scanned his surroundings for whatever was wrong. Eyes darting, he wondered if it was the Weequay at the bantha burger stall, the Trandoshan skulking around the alley, or the human with the cybernetics tracking too closely.​

​

Then he felt something else. Almost involuntarily, his nerves fired and he reacted - left hand snapped to his lightsaber and yanking it free. It hissed alive, deflecting a blaster bolt into a stall - smoke curled off the burnt durasteel. The crowd dispersed, panicking and screaming.​

​

A Duros emerged from the chaos, blaster pistol still smoking. "You got a lot of nerve coming back here, Moonbound. You a Jedi now or something?" he called out, aiming his pistol at Ace once more.​

​

Ace blocked another blaster bolt, form still imperfect, but it was enough to deal with the likes of Lon Vann - one of Tessk's lackeys. Ace had done a few low-risk jobs with him back when he was still a street rat.​

​

"Or something. Good to see you, Lor." he replied, unbothered.​

​

Lor shot off a few more bolts, they tore through the air but Ace haphazardly blocked them - swiping each one away. Ace threw his arm out reached out. Lor's blaster jerked free, ripped from his grip, landing clean in Ace's off-hand. He gave it a brief look over, then returned his gaze to Lor. Without even looking, Ace flicked his lightsaber up, slicing the the barrel of the pistol.​

​

Ace stepped forward toward Lor. The crowd seemed to calm down once the skirmish ended as abruptly as it started, the screaming stopped and stares ensued. He halted in front Lor, lightsaber still humming - a knife through the silence.​

​

"Let's catch up." he said with a crooked smirk, jerking his head toward the nearest alley.​

​

Rheyla Tann​

​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

She was halfway through her skewer when the world snapped.

It started as a shift—too sharp, too sudden. A ripple in the crowd, the kind that didn’t come from shouting or shoving but from danger. Something cutting through the rhythm of the street like a blade through canvas.

Then came the screaming.

The Besalisk ducked behind the counter—three arms over his head, one still clutching the caf pot like it was a lifeline. Rheyla didn’t move at first. She just turned, chewing slowly, gaze narrowing as a sabre flared to life across the street.

A lightsaber. Not imagination. Not a guess.

She brought her caf to her lips and took a sip, then stopped mid-drink.

Her eyes locked on the figure holding the blade—silver hair, taller than she remembered, stance still a little too defensive to be seasoned. But no question: it was him.

She snorted once and nearly choked. “…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve, she leaned against the food stall counter and glanced back at the vendor. “You alright, Durrg?”

The Besalisk gave a grunt from behind the counter. “Could use fewer customers with lightsabers, thanks.”

She nodded and set down the credits she owed on the counter, plus a little extra. “For emotional trauma,” she muttered.

Then, food in one hand, caf in the other, she stepped out from under the awning and back into the street—close enough to watch, far enough to stay uninvolved.

From here, she could see it clearly now.

Of all the people to drop back into her life, Sparkleboy hadn’t even made the list.

He was taller now—actually taller. Not just trying to be. And he looked less like a skittish street kid about to bolt. Still stupid, apparently, judging by the lightsaber on full display in the middle of Sector 9G, but… different.

She didn’t move closer.

Didn’t draw a weapon.

Didn’t feel like playing a hero. Especially not for him.

But she couldn’t help herself.

She took another bite of her skewer, chewed, and called out just loud enough to carry over the noise:

“You sure know how to make an entrance. Subtle as ever, her Sparkleboy?” Raising her caf as a mock salute.

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Bonadan - The Vergeworks - Sector 9G

​

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

A voice carried over the silence. Feminine and familiar. Then it all clicked when he heard Sparkleboy. Ace turned to meet the familiar voice and there she was - her blue skin standing out in the crowd of onlookers. She looked the same. Same scarf, same deadpan stare, same way she stood.

She hadn't really changed. But something in the way he looked at her had. The way she raised her caf like a toast, unbothered and unimpressed - it made something shift in his chest. Not dramatic. Just… there.

He didn't smile. Didn't say anything clever. Just watched her for a second too long before answering.

"Rheyla. Long time no see."

At this point, and with how much better he understood the Force - he was completely unphased by their repeated chance encounters. Ace turned back to Lor, again he waved his lightsaber toward the alley. Wordlessly, he complied and made his way over with Ace following close behind.

Extinguishing his lightsaber, he stepped toward the Duros threateningly. He wasn't cautious anymore, nor analytical. Not really. He didn't need to be. Ace was more than capable of handling himself now.

"Where's Tessk?" he asked, voice low.

Lor chuckled, feigning bravado but Acier sensed the tremor under it. Jittery, scared, and sweating through his jacket. Even in the shade. The Force made it easy now. Easy to feel the cracks. The tension in Lor's spine. The lie in his grin.

"You skip town for almost a year, come back with fancy Jedi training, and think you can take on Tessk?" Lor answered.

"Uh-uh." Ace took a step forward "Try again."

Lor's mouth opened, then closed. The air between them grew heavier, not just from the heat or the silence, but from the weight of something else. Something Lor couldn't name but felt. Lor's fear deepened, twisting, curling. Ace sensed it all. He liked it. Not in a cruel way, not exactly. But after a lifetime of scrambling, scraping, running from people like Lor and Tessk - feeling this? It was power. And for once, it was his.

He didn't need to raise his voice. Didn't need to draw his saber again. The silence between them was louder than anything. And finally, Lor cracked.

"He's holed up in the old Sunspot plant, out by the docks. Place has been dead for years, but Tessk moved in, turned it into his own little throne room. Got muscle on every catwalk and cams on the doors. You walk in loud, you're not walking out."

Ace raised his arm and Lor flinched, he lightly tapped the Duros cheek disrespectfully.

"Appreciate it, Lor. Weren't so hard, was it?"

He turned to leave the alley before stopping once more, back facing the Duros - Ace turned his head to meet Lor's crimson eyes. He ignited his lightsaber without a word.

"If you're lying. I'll find you." it was an empty threat, but Lor had always given him grief, even as a kid. It was worth it, putting some more fear into him.

Ace extinguished the blade and stepped back into the light of the street. The crowd hadn't fully returned, but the noise was rising again - footsteps, voices, a vendor shouting something about half-priced nerf skewers. He didn't rush. He moved with purpose now, toward the docks. Toward Tessk.

He didn't glance across the street. Didn't check to see if she was still watching. But something in him said she was.

Rheyla Tann
​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

He turned.

Didn’t smirk. Didn’t grin. Just looked at her—long enough to say it wasn’t a coincidence, short enough to make it clear he wasn’t stopping.

“Rheyla. Long time no see.”

Then he vanished into the alley, lightsaber still lit, dragging whatever mess he’d just stepped into behind him.

Rheyla didn’t follow.

She took another slow sip of her caf, eyes lingering on the crowd as it started to stitch itself back together. The tension still hung there, faint and sticky, like the smoke curling from a scorched food stall sign across the strip.

Her gaze drifted toward the alley again.

Still taller. Still stupid. But something about him had changed. There was weight behind his steps now. Intent. The lightsaber didn’t look borrowed anymore.

She blew out a soft breath, leaned one elbow on the counter, and muttered, “Still has a flair for drama…”

Behind her, Durrg snorted. “With that one? Probably both.”

She smirked faintly, took one last bite of her skewer, and finally looked away from the alley.

Didn’t mean she wasn’t thinking about it.

Didn’t mean she wasn’t already calculating how far the docks were.

But for now, she just leaned on the counter, watching the city come back to life around her—caf in hand, eyes half-lidded, and a familiar ache forming behind her temples.

She placed another credit chit on the counter with a sigh and nodded toward the grill. “One more for the road, Durrg. Still hungry.”

The Besalisk grunted, already skewering another stick of nerf like nothing had happened.

Rheyla took it without a word and turned—just in time to catch a glimpse of silver hair leaving the alley.

Sparkleboy.

Same stride, but more grounded. Less hesitation, more purpose. He didn’t look back. Didn’t check if anyone was following. Just moved through the crowd like someone with a plan.

She stood there a moment, chewing slowly, watching him fade deeper into Sector 9G.

Two sides pulled at her.

One told her to sit down, finish her food, recharge, and head back to the ship. The smart side. The professional side. The part of her that didn’t chase ghosts just because they wandered back into frame.

The other side?

It wanted to see what kind of chaos he was walking into. How fast he’d light that sabre again. How long it would take before the kid found a mess he couldn’t walk out of.

She rolled the skewer between her fingers, eyes still fixed down the street.

“Ten credits says Sparkleboy gets in over his head but makes it all the way,” she said casually, still watching.

Behind her, Durrg scratched his chin with one thick finger. “Twenty says the kid gets himself killed before he gets wherever he’s going.”

Rheyla smirked. “Nah. He might be annoying—and has way too much bravado for his own good—but he’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

She paused, then glanced back over her shoulder at Durrg.

“Never tell him I said that.”

She grabbed the second stick she’d already paid for, gave her caf a final sip, and stepped off the curb.

“You’ve got yourself a wager,” she added with a smirk, then moved in the direction Ace had disappeared—boots steady, expression unreadable.

After all, she told herself, she was just gonna watch.

Probably.

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Bonadan - The Vergeworks - Sector 9G

​

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

Acier continued to the docks, and as he did so, he could feel something in proximity. A presence that was new but held the sense of familiarity. Since he began his training, he could sense so much more now - it was like all the little details in a tapestry that was the galaxy.

It lingered like a pleasant smell, except he could feel it. It evoked a calmness like a quiet melody wrapped in a layer of vigilance - like a predator deciding if the reward was higher than the risk. Intuitively, he knew who this was. Although he hadn't seen her in months, he recognized her presence in the Force, only now he saw more.

Ace continued on, allowing her to follow and pretending to be none the wiser. He led the pair into an abandoned maintenance tunnel. It was quiet, echoey, with flickering utility lights. Old tools had been left behind and you can hear distant hums from active city systems, but no one came down here anymore.

He stopped in place, turning to face her whenever she'd made her way over. Ace crossed his arms and smirked at her, the same one he gave when he had helped with the Scourhawk's repairs way back when.

"Still keeping an eye on me?" he said, smirk unwavering.

Ace relaxed his arms and moved over to an old workbench, leaning himself against it. It was metal, rusted and covered in dust with a cover stretched over it. It'd for sure seen better days.

"Sorry about earlier, had to keep up appearances and all." he said half-heartedly "The hell are you doing in my old stomping grounds anyway?"

Rheyla Tann
​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

The tunnel was quiet in that way only old, forgotten places could be. That dead kind of quiet that hums beneath the surface—power lines still alive, but nobody listening.

She didn’t announce herself.

Didn’t need to.

Ace turned before she reached him, smirk already waiting on his face like he’d known she was there all along.

Figures.

“Still keeping an eye on me?”

Rheyla raised a brow, took a slow bite of her second skewer, and spoke around it.

“With the way you get into trouble? Nah. But whatever helps you sleep at night, Sparkleboy.”

She chewed, didn’t rush. Let the silence stretch. When he moved to the bench, all relaxed bravado and casual lean, she could almost hear the ghost of the kid she dropped off on Ord Mantell. Only now, the act was less act.

"Sorry about earlier, had to keep up appearances and all. The hell are you doing in my old stomping grounds anyway?"

She took a final sip from her now-lukewarm caf and tossed the empty cup into a rusted bin by the wall.

“Didn’t know they stamped your name on Sector 9G. Could’ve used the heads up.”

Her tone was flat, but her eyes never left him—calculating, curious, weighing if the calm in him was real or just a better mask than last time.

She let that hang a beat longer, then added with a shrug, “I was here for a job. You interrupted my breakfast and dinner.”

Pause. Then:

“Though it’s a miracle you’re still in one piece, considering you lit up that sabre like a damn flare in the middle of the Vergeworks.” She leaned against the opposite wall, mirroring him—one boot hooked behind the other, arms crossed, skewer still in hand.

She leaned against the opposite wall, mirroring him—one boot hooked behind the other, arms crossed, skewer still in hand. “Lemme guess.” She gestured vaguely with the half-eaten skewer.

“You came back to make peace with the past. Walk the streets barefoot. Maybe hug it out with your childhood enemies?”

A beat.

“Or—crazy thought—you decided to stir up a hornet’s nest for old time’s sake and figured, ‘hey, why not do it with a lightsaber this time?’”

She took another bite, chewed.

“Tell me I’m close.”

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Bonadan - The Vergeworks - Sector 9G

​

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

Yep, definitely still the same Rheyla. All snark and bite, with hardly any room for tendness. Well, from what he knew about her, Ace deduced this was her own messed up way of displaying fondness.

The Twi'lek confessed she was, of course, here on business. Made sense, why else would she be on Bonadan - the Vergeworks specifically. It was his childhood home, but didn't mean there was any sort of affection for it. Ace raised his hands in a playful gesture that said 'sorry' upon hearing he'd 'interrupted' her breakfast and dinner.

Ace folded his arms again, waiting patiently, and eyeing her down as she waved her around her skewer trying to guess what it was he was here for. Not missing any chance to throw her special brand of banter his way.

Lifting his left hand, Ace rocked his hand left and right "Getting there." he answered.

He pushed himself off the workbench and took a few steps toward her confidently. Stopping within arm's reach of her, he really noticed the difference now. When he last saw Rheyla, he could barely see over her head. But now? Wasn't so much the case anymore. His brown eyes lingered on her, almost as if he was analyzing her. She really was the same. But... it was like he saw her differently now.

Ace rested his knuckles on his hips, offering her a smirk "You remember that bounty on me, right?"

It was rhetorical, of course she did. Its the reason the pair even met in the first place.

"Well, the past few weeks its been like I've got this giant stamp on my forehead that says 'hunt me'. Bounty hunters are finding me every other day. Even had a scrap with your buddy, Dro. He says hi, by the way."

He let his words hang, that last part was sure to catch her attention. Ace averted his gaze finally, taking a step back and unclipped his lightsaber from his belt, tossing it lightly in the air. The hilt spun before falling back into his palm, he repeated the gesture a few more times as he continued to talk.

"Figured enough was enough. So, I'm back here for Tessk. To get him to clear my bounty." he paused "Or else."

There was no levity in his voice, he was serious. Certain, that today would go his way. Another moment passed, his eyes found hers again - expression still stern, still confident.

"Question is: are you coming? Or are you just gonna stand around and watch?" he asked, almost challenging her.

Rheyla Tann
​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

Rheyla tilted her head slightly, watching the sabre spin like a lazy coin toss in his hand. Her eyes followed it once. Twice. Then dropped to meet his again, one brow slowly arching.

“Dro says hi?” she echoed, voice flat.

A slow, joyless smirk crept across her lips.

“Tell me he still talks too loud and fights like a thermal detonator with a bad fuse.” A pause. “Actually, don’t. Not sure, I wanna know what it means that you ran into him and walked away.”

She didn’t say I’ve seen what he does when he’s angry. She didn’t have to.

Instead, she tossed the last bite of her skewer into her mouth and chewed like she needed the motion to keep her jaw from tensing too hard. When she swallowed, her tone came lighter—but only just.

“Timing’s funny like that.”
She stepped off the wall, stretching. “You chase trouble, and somehow, we end up in the same airlock.”

A beat.

“Still. Guess I should be flattered. Took half the sector gunning for your head for the galaxy to throw us back in the same orbit.”

She took a few slow steps forward, closing the gap just enough for the tunnel shadows to dull the edge of her usual smirk. What remained wasn’t mockery. Just wariness.

“I don’t know much about Tessk,” she admitted. “But I know the type. Doesn’t care if the bounty’s clean or messy — just that someone make you disappear.”

Her arms crossed—not guarded, just thoughtful. Weighing. Watching.

“And you’re gonna just… walk in and ask him nicely to drop it with that glowstick?” She gave a soft, incredulous laugh. “You hit your head recently, or is this a new brand of reckless I haven’t seen yet?” She let the question hang, then sighed through her nose—short and sharp, like something coiled finally relaxing. “Look. I didn’t come here to play hero. Was just here to eat something that didn’t taste like burnt protein paste and maybe not get stabbed in the process.”

Her eyes flicked to his sabre, then back to his face.

“But you’ve got that look again. Same one you had when you rewired my hyperdrive with chewing gum, spare wire, and whatever the hell that oily napkin was.”

A reluctant smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“I’ll come.”

She stepped past him, boots echoing softly against the tunnel floor. Then paused.

“But I’m not doing it for free. You want backup? You’re buying me a real meal. Something hot. With flavour. And caf that doesn’t taste like floor cleaner.”

She looked over her shoulder, one brow raised.

“Besides, can’t have you dying on me now. I’ve got credits riding on your stupid face surviving, Sparkleboy,” she added with a wink, giving his shoulder a playful nudge.

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Bonadan - The Vergeworks - Sector 9G

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

She was hesitant toward his plan, or... lack thereof. Which would be fair if Ace was literally anyone else. But he wasn't, he was descended from a line of warriors, wielded the Force and knew how to use a lightsaber.

He flashed her a confident smile "That's exactly what I'm going to do."

Rheyla laughed, calling him reckless and he rolled his eyes playfully in response. But she turned serious in an instant. Ace wasn't sure what it was, but while she continued to speak - he couldn't help but sense an underlining of... belief? Trust, maybe? She didn't like the plan but her mention of the hyperdrive fix told him that she believed he could make it work.

And that was all he needed to hear.

She agreed to come, but not before naming her price. Food. Of course. Well, it wasn't a bad deal - he liked food too, and maybe they were going to need it after what was coming their way.

Ace smiled "Got yourself a deal.."

She then nudged his shoulder, revealing that she'd actually placed a wager on him surviving his confrontation with Tessk. Ace placed both hands over his heart, mockingly.

"You bet in my favor? You like me more than you let on, Bluebell." he teased. He knew a slap would be coming his way after that, but he wasn't bothered.

The warmth would quickly fade though, and the quiet between them settled into something heavier. Not uncomfortable... just focused. The kind that always came before a fight. Ace let the last trace of his smirk fall away as he clipped his lightsaber back to his belt. The fun was over.

Without another word, he turned and led the way through the rest of the tunnel system. The lights grew dimmer, the metal underfoot older, louder. Eventually, the passage opened up to a service exit that fed directly into the industrial sprawl near the docks. And just beyond it, framed between decaying durasteel scaffolding and flickering streetlights, sat the Sunspot Plant.

It loomed like a rusted carcass from a different time. Half the outer wall was eaten through by age, exposing gutted machinery and stacked crates bearing no markings, the kind of silence that screamed "illegal."

Ace slowed his pace, eyes narrowing. "At least Lor wasn't lying. Tessk's definitely in there." he said quietly.

He didn't need to explain how he knew. He could feel it. Like mold crawling under the skin of the Force. Ace didn't reach for his lightsaber. Not yet. But his hand hovered closer.

Rheyla Tann
​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

Rheyla’s eyes narrowed the second the word Bluebell hit the air.

Whack.

She smacked him upside the head—just hard enough to make her point, same as always.

“I told you not to call me that again!” She snapped, deadpan, like the very idea of him thinking she liked him made her want to slap him again.

She let the silence settle again as they walked, the shift in atmosphere sinking into her skin like cold air. With every step, her posture changed—looser in the limbs but sharper in the eyes. The relaxed swagger faded into something more surgical. Calculated.

Tunnel shadows thinned as rusted scaffolding came into view. The moment her boots hit the threshold of the exit, Rheyla stopped just behind him and took it all in with a slow, practised scan.

Crates with no markings. Exposed walls like peeled skin. Machinery gutted and scattered like a dissected beast. Every instinct in her spine twitched with quiet warning.

“Stars,” she muttered. “Place has all the charm of a spice den and twice the mold.”

She didn’t reach for her blaster yet, but her hand hovered nearby. Eyes swept the rooftops, shadows, crates—tracking angles, exits, lines of fire. She didn't speak for a long moment, just watched Ace as he stood in the doorway, tense but composed.

Then, voice low:

“You’ve got that look again.”

She didn’t say the same one you had when we blew the coolant line on Horuz Station or when the odds were ten to one on Kessel. She didn’t have to.

A pause.

“Tell me you’ve got a back route. Or you’re planning something more elegant than knocking on the front door and hoping they don’t shoot first.”

She shifted beside him, a half-step closer—not crowding him, but close enough to fall into rhythm.

“’Cause if we’re walking into that rustbucket, I want a better reason than your gut feeling and a death wish.”

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Bonadan - The Vergeworks - Sector 9G

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

"I've got a look?" he asked, glancing at her curiously "Good to know." Ace made a mental note for the future, the idea of him having some sort of 'tell' was concerning.

It appeared that Rheyla was having doubts, and maybe, they weren't misplaced. Ace was confident in himself and his abilities, but he wasn't stupid. Maybe if he was fully-trained, walking in with blasters blazing may have worked. Unfortunately, despite all of his natural talent - he was still a novice. Looking ahead at the structure ahead, he spoke up.

"I know the Vergeworks like the back of my hand."

His eyes remained ahead. Ace pointed past the scaffolding, toward a crumbling ventilation tower near the south end of the plant. Most of it was rusted through, but not all.

"Back when I was a kid, that duct led into the upper catwalks. We used to sneak in and strip parts from the machines before Tessk's crew even made this their spot. No guards. No cams. Just a crawlspace and a hundred ways to break your neck if you're not careful."

He glanced her way, all casual confidence, but the weight behind it was clear.

"You take that route, drop into the rafters. Give it ten minutes, and you'll have the high ground over the main floor."

Then the smile returned, Ace unclipped his lightsaber and flip-tossed it in the air again. When it fell into his palm, he continued.

"All eyes on me. I'll walk through the front, get them talking. You do what you do best, flank, watch my back, improvise if it all goes to hell."

His tone didn't carry hesitation, just certainty. Because even now, standing outside a rusted-out deathtrap full of criminals, Ace knew this place better than they ever would. It was his backyard. And despite all of Rheyla's jokes, it was his stomping ground.

He looked at her again:

"You hit like a girl, by the way."

Ace winked, then dropped before she could retaliate. In one fluid motion, he vanished over the ledge, boots hitting rusted durasteel with a dull clang that echoed beneath the factory's skeleton. Dust scattered around him as he landed in a crouch. From here, he had a clear view of the Sunspot Plant. It sat just ahead.

Ace adjusted his grip on the lightsaber, then started forward, boots hitting metal, every step echoing off the hollow framework of the city's bones. No guards yet. No blasterfire. But it was coming.

And he was walking toward it like he owned the place.

Rheyla Tann
​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

Rheyla watched him gesture toward the tower, eyes narrowing slightly as he outlined the route. Crawlspace, high ground, a clean drop to cover his reckless entrance. The bones of the plan were sound. Risky, sure—but not suicidal.

Still, the fact that he was the bait didn’t exactly settle well.

“You ever get tired of being the distraction?” she muttered, mostly to herself.

But then came that line.

Her head snapped toward him.

“Oh, you little—” She swung after his head, but only swapped at air.

But he was already dropping over the edge, vanishing before she could land the smack he definitely deserved.

“Coward,” she said under her breath, eyes narrowing at the spot he disappeared.

She stepped up to the ledge, peering down after him.

“Try not to get shot in the first ten seconds, smartass,” she called, voice echoing faintly off rusted steel. “I’m not dragging your cocky ass out a second time.”

She waited until his boots had faded into the clatter of the skeleton factory before she moved. Rheyla exhaled through her nose, short and sharp, and turned toward the duct. The route would be tight. Cramped. Risky. But it would work. She rolled out her shoulders, double-checked the charge on her blaster, and started moving.

As she climbed, she muttered under her breath, mostly to herself. “Stupid, reckless, overconfident… sparkly idiot.”

A pause.

“…If he gets himself killed and makes me lose the bet, I’m kicking his corpse—after I kill whoever killed him.”

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Bonadan - The Vergeworks - Sector 9G

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

Rheyla called after him, warning him not to get killed in the first ten seconds. He let out a quiet laugh, then spun around, walking backward without breaking stride. Grinning, Ace cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled back:

"Okay! I'll make it twenty!" his tone was sarcastic and filled with defiance.

He'd show her he wasn't that same kid who was only able react and stumble while in the face of danger, making everything up as he went along. Now, he sought it out directly, and would have an answer for it.

The Sunspot plant grew bigger with every step he took. Drawing nearer to the entrance, he made out two shapes - guards posted outside. One was a droid, the other was a Togruta - one he recognized. Vedo. Another one of Tessk's crew Ace knew back in the day.

Vedo's eyes narrowed as he approached, like his brain was buffering who Ace was in real-time. The moment the recognition touched the Torguta's face, he raised his blaster rifle at the snowy-haired young man. The security droid followed suit. Their blasters lit up, charging, ready to shoot Ace if he made another step.

Vedo grinned, teeth replaced with gold "Acier Moonbound. Tired of running, huh?"

Raising his palms, Ace smirked at Vedo "More or less, yeah."

"I'd love to put a hole through you, but I won't rob the Boss. You're coming with us."

"I can show myself in, but thanks for the offer." Ace retorted.

Then, he moved. A flick of his fingers, sharp, precise, and both rifles jerked free of their owners' hands, ripped across the space by an invisible force. They clattered against a rusted container behind him, out of reach. Vedo barely had time to blink, the droid barely had time to process.

Ace's lightsaber snapped to life with a hiss, casting blue light across the metal yard. One smooth step forward, and the blade sliced clean through the droid's torso, sparks showered as it collapsed, smoking, into a heap. Vedo reached for a knife at his belt. Ace sidestepped, turned his shoulder, and jammed the butt of his hilt into the Togruta's gut. As Vedo doubled over, Ace's knee shot upward - connecting with Vedo square in the face.

His lightsaber deactivated with a hiss. Ace exhaled, already walking. The factory's yawning entrance swallowed him in layers of shadow and stale air. The smell hit first, rust, oil, and something old and sour that clung to every wall like rot. His boots echoed on the floor, not loud, but intentional. Every step was calculated.

The space opened into a wide central floor, overhead catwalks lined the walls like broken ribs, and old cargo lifts sat frozen in place. Stacked crates made a maze of cover, some fresh, some collapsing from age. Ahead, a pair of guards emerged from the shadows near a mounted console.

One called out for him to freeze, another yelled for him to not move. Of course, Ace didn't. Instead, he moved sideways behind a support beam, keeping his profile small. He reached out with the Force - not a shove, not a blast. Just a tug. A crate beside the guards wobbled, then tipped, falling over with a loud clang that made both flinch and turn.

Ace was already moving, recalling all of his training with Pisti. He darted low across the floor, closed the gap fast, and when one guard spotted him again, he flicked his hand and yanked the blaster off the man's sling. It slid across the floor and disappeared into the dark.

The second guard raised his weapon, Ace slid on one knee beneath the line of fire, then popped up behind a low crate and threw his lightsaber hilt. It wasn't even ignited, just a blunt toss. It clocked the man in the jaw with a solid crack, sending him stumbling backward into the console.

Ace retrieved the hilt with a quick hop and jog, scooping it off the floor. His breathing was a little harder, he wasn't a Jedi. Wasn't untouchable, or a powerhouse. But he moved smart, just as Pisti taught him.

The downed guards groaned but didn't get up. He didn't finish them. Just made sure they'd stay down long enough.

The deeper parts of the plant waited, flooded in haze and shadow, with metal stairs twisting up toward a faint office light overhead. Voices echoed from somewhere above. Orders, movement. Someone was getting organized. Ace looked up toward the catwalks.

He didn't know if Rheyla was in position yet. But she'd know when the time came.

Rheyla Tann
​

​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

Rheyla moved like smoke through the vent shaft. Cramped, narrow, loud in all the wrong ways—but familiar enough. Industrial crawlspaces all sounded the same: groaning metal, the quiet plink of dust hitting steel, the distant hum of power through forgotten lines. This one just happened to be narrower than most, and steeper.

Her boots caught a lip. She gritted her teeth, twisted sideways, and shoved her way forward.

“…A hundred ways to break your neck,” she muttered under her breath. “And he sounded smug about it.”

Every few meters, she paused—listening. Feeling. The shift of air, the faint echo of movement. A vibration beneath her hands told her something below had come alive. Heavy footsteps. Blasterfire—no. Something cleaner. Quicker. Lightsaber.

She smirked faintly to herself. “Ten seconds, my ass.”

It wasn’t much longer before she reached the access grate. The metal was old but held, and through the narrow slats she saw the floor below—stacked crates, rusted consoles, two bodies down and groaning. A flicker of blue light. Shadows stretched across the walls as Ace moved—fast, sharp, surprisingly smooth for someone who ran his mouth so much.

He didn’t kill. Not yet. Just dropped them hard and moved on.

Huh. Kid wasn’t posturing.

She exhaled slow. Focused. Her hands moved to the grate bolts, working them loose with careful turns. No clatter, no rattle. One by one, they came free, and she slipped the panel inward.

Then she was moving. Down onto the catwalk in a crouch, barely a whisper of weight hitting metal. One knee down, one hand on her blaster. She swept her eyes across the floor, upper rails, far exits. Old reflexes took hold like muscle memory.

Track movement. Count shadows. Watch the corners.

Rheyla stayed low, shadowed in rust and haze. She watched Ace walk deeper into the plant, toward the lights and voices above. More were coming. She could feel the shift in the air, the tension of a group getting their shit together upstairs.

She moved, low and fast, a shadow slipping between rusted beams and overhead girders. While Ace was down on the floor lighting up the place like a damn beacon, Rheyla kept to the higher scaffolds, her eyes scanning the shifting patterns below. Voices echoed. Footsteps followed.

Two guards—different from the others. Slower. Coming to investigate.

They didn’t see her. Not until it was too late.

The first died without a sound. A flash of steel, and her vibroknife opened his throat from behind. She caught his body as it twitched, gently laid it against the metal before it could collapse and draw attention. Blood pooled fast. She didn’t watch it.

The second turned when he heard the body slump—too slow. Rheyla moved like she'd been born for it. One arm trapped his mouth, the other slit him from jaw to collarbone. She let him drop in silence, crouching to wipe her blade on his jacket before slipping it back into place.

It wasn’t pretty. Wasn’t clean. But it was done.

She kept moving. Careful. Cold. No hesitation.

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Bonadan - The Vergeworks - Sector 9G

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

Ace moved through the rusted corridor with steady steps, the hum of his lightsaber still hot in his hand. Each footfall echoed quieter now, the factory holding its breath. Six down. No alarm blaring. No reinforcements...yet. The open platform office was just ahead, raised, exposed, and framed by broken glass and grated walkways. Two silhouettes moved behind the slatted windows. One of them had to be Tessk.

Then... he heard footsteps, followed by barked orders. Four guards rounded the corner. They were better trained than the rest, he could tell. Vests. Visors. Two with rifles, two with sidearms. They hadn't seen him yet, but they were close enough that Ace knew a straight charge would get him gunned down. He cursed under his breath and ducked behind a crate stack just as they spotted movement.

"There! On the floor! Move!"

Blasterfire roared, slamming into the crate's edge. Splinters of rusted durasteel flaked away with each shot. Ace was too far to close the gap without getting lit up with blaster fire. Ace holstered his saber, drew his modified DL-27, and leaned out just enough to return fire.

The blaster bolt cracked through the air, clean and sharp. His first shot clipped one of the riflemen in the shoulder, sending him stumbling back behind a support beam. The second cracked across the floor, forcing another to shift position.

Ace ducked again. He wasn't winning this with brute force. Not here. He popped out again, changed sides, firing from a low crouch to keep their angles disrupted. But they were adjusting. Coordinating. Pinning him down with overlapping fire arcs.

Above, the catwalk groaned faintly. Rheyla's silhouette shifted with it, unseen by the guards below. From her vantage point, she had options:

One guard had taken cover behind a rusted column directly beneath her: an easy knife drop if she wanted to get hands-on. Another lingered in the open between crates, a clean shot if she wanted to keep things quiet. And finally, the last two were closing on Ace's position: one flanking wide, the other hailing him with suppressing fire.

Ace's DL-27 hissed again, forcing one of them to duck.

"Anytime now, Bluebell..." he muttered to himself, half-teasing.

The noise of the shootout echoed up toward the office platform. Inside, Tessk would know he was here and the window to stay quiet was officially closed.

Rheyla Tann
​

​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

Rheyla saw it unfolding. The second she heard his blaster ring out, she shifted. Her boots moved silent along the catwalk, knees bent, eyes cold. Four guards. Tight formation. Trained—not gutter rats like the last ones. And Acier? Pinned.

Her lips curved just slightly.
"Twenty seconds, huh."

Rheyla knelt on the catwalk, eyes tracking the chaos below.
Blasterfire lit up the floor like a fireworks display gone wrong—loud, messy, and only half-accurate. Sparkleboy was doing his best. Holding ground. But he was boxed in.

She marked them. Calculated.
Then, with practised ease, she pulled her goggles up and slid them over her eyes—lenses scanning, locking onto the guards below.

Then she moved.

With one smooth motion, she pulled a smoke bomb from her belt, thumbed the activator, and lobbed it high into the air. It arced, clean and deliberate, before landing right at Ace’s feet.

It pulsed once—bright—like a warning.

Then it detonated, releasing a dense, fast-expanding smoke cloud that swallowed him in seconds. The world below vanished in grey.

Before the canister even hit the floor, Rheyla dropped a flash charge—precisely timed—right above the guard tucked behind the rusted column below. It fell, bounced once, and—

FLASH. A pulse of blinding white light tore through the haze.

By then, Rheyla was already moving.

Jetboots flared to life in a tight, brutal burst. She launched from the catwalk like a spear of smoke and steel, cloak whipping behind her. Her boots hit the ground just as her arm shot forward—and she drove her vibroknife deep into the neck of the guard between crates.

Steel met flesh with a thick, wet crunch.

She twisted the blade once, then yanked it free. The man dropped behind her in a heap.

She didn’t stop.

One motion—her hand swept up. Her blaster primed with a shrill whine. She fired. Each shot lit her silhouette against the smoke—brief, stark flashes that cut through the haze like lightning. A ghost of war.

The first bolt punched through a helmet. The target dropped, armour clanging against metal.

The last guard was turning—rifle up, breath fast—but Rheyla was already walking toward him. Not running. Not dodging. Just walking, steady as death.

She shot him in the leg.

He screamed. Dropped to a knee.

She shot him in the arm.

The rifle clattered from his grasp.

She shot him in the other arm. He crumpled, helpless, screaming, weaponless.

And still, she walked.

Not a sprint. Not a dodge. Just a steady, unrelenting stride.

She reached him as he gasped and bled. Her blaster hovered before his face. He barely managed to look up—eyes wide, lips parted, about to speak.

Her last shot flared against the smoke—one final flash, one final silhouette—then silence.

She stopped over him. Blaster level with his face.

He looked up—lips trembling, eyes wide, trying to say something.

Rheyla didn’t give him the chance.

BANG.

The shot cracked through the air, and the body went limp.

She exhaled. Calm. Controlled. Then, almost offhandedly, she reached down and tugged her vibroknife from the other corpse’s throat, wiping it clean on his collar.

Only then did she look toward the smoke cloud still curling through the air.

“Clear,” she said flatly.

The smoke, now slowly clearing the room, slowly revealed Rheyla standing with her blaster in hand by the last guard whose face was a burned, scorched mark.

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Bonadan - The Vergeworks - Sector 9G

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

The canister bounced at his feet with a blink of bright light. Ace's eyes widened just before it burst, then a cloud of thick grey swallowed everything in a flash. He ducked instinctively behind the crate.

A second later, the whole corridor lit up in pure white. Ace blinked hard, vision completely obscured - the screams that followed told him everything. Blaster fire rang through the plant. So much was happening at once - screaming, metal clanking, more screaming, and then another thud. It didn't take him long to figure out this was Rheyla's doing.

As if it was timed, Rheyla's voice cut through the fog. It was cold, clipped, and decisive. Ace had only ever heard this tone from her once, and it made him uneasy then. As if every emotion had been pulled out of her.

He stepped out slowly, DL-27 still raised, eyes scanning the aftermath. The haze peeled away in layers, revealing blood on the floor, scorched armor, and Rheyla standing like the storm's eye, blaster held low but still hot. Ace didn't want anyone dead, but he understood that sometimes it couldn't be avoided. He couldn't imagine Rheyla would have agreed if he hadn't asked her to kill anyway.

He gave her a long look, unreadable.

"...You always this dramatic?" he muttered, half as a tease, half not. He didn't expect an answer.

Instead, he holstered his blaster and looked ahead. The staircase to the open office platform stretched above them, exposed and quiet for now. Ace reached for his lightsaber again, fingers brushing the hilt. His pulse had slowed. His focus sharpened. This was it now. His brown eyes lingered on Rheyla for a moment, before he tilted his chin in the direction of the office.

Ace's boots clanked softly against the grated steps as he climbed, his silhouette half-shrouded in the smoke curling below. Every step echoed in the exposed steel corridor like a warning bell. He reached the landing, stopping just before the wide open platform that served as Tessk's office. No doors. Just rusted support beams, shattered duraglass panes, and a few makeshift barriers where crates had been stacked into improvised walls.

He could see movement inside. Three... maybe four. One was pacing. Broad shoulders, slow gait, and confident. That'd be Tessk. Ace inhaled deeply, exhaling as he took his first step toward the office. He could sense Rheyla, oddly, her presence grounded him. When he finally made it to the door, it slid open without him needing to do anything.

There he was. Tessk. Expecting him and behind him were... two droids wielding electrostaffs. He'd never seen anything like it, but they looked old... and dangerous.

"Well, well, well. If it isssn't the notoriousss Acier Moonbound. To what do I owe the pleasure?" the Trandoshan hissed.

Ace ignited his lightsaber, wielding it close "Cut the chit, Tessk. Call off the bounty. Now."

Tessk let out a hearty chuckle, a real one. Not a fake one to mock him. "You think 'caussse you have a fancy lightsssaber you can scare me into calling it off?" he wagged his index finger "That ain't how it worksss, kid."

Jaw tightening, his grip around his lightsaber hardened - knuckles whitening.

"I ain't never forgot what you did, kid. Double-crossing me on that job at the docksss? Fixin' that explosion to mess with the crew. After what I done for you."

Something in Ace snapped, after months and months of being on the run, dodging bounty hunters day in and day out. Over some paranoid Trandoshan's incapability to see reason? Because he always thought someone was out to get him?

"It wasn't me! The contact was an undercover agent working against you! I was set up too!" he gritted his teeth "You looked out for me, gave me work when I had nothing. Why would I go against you?!"

Tessk hissed a slow breath through jagged teeth, low and guttural "Lie to your mother, boy. Not to me."

The droids shifted behind him, only slightly. But enough. Ace clocked it immediately. That twitch of readiness. Like they were waiting for the word. Tessk noticed it too, laughing again.

"Like 'em? Repurposssed from the Clone Warssss. Hefty price."

Tessk stepped forward, slow and heavy. His scaled feet scraped against the durasteel floor as he moved. The years had carved trenches across his face, but his eyes… those hadn't aged a day. Still sharp. Still mean. Still watching every flinch like it was blood in the water.

"You were sssmart," he said, voice almost wistful. "Knew how to lie. How to fix. I liked that about you." A pause. Then his smile widened - ugly, full of cracked gold. "But you're not that sssmart. Shoulda sssstayed gone."

He made a gesture with his hand. One the droids seemed to recognize, their electostaves crackled to life and they began to step forward. One toward Ace, the other to Rheyla...

Rheyla Tann ​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

Rheyla didn’t follow right away.

She watched him go—boots clanking against the steel stairs, shoulders squared like he still believed in speeches and clean endings. The kind of belief that got people killed.

Smoke still curled at her boots as she holstered her blaster, then clipped her knife back into place with a quiet snap. Her hand lingered there a second longer. Not because she hesitated. Just... taking the temperature of the moment.

Then she moved.

Each step up the stairs was measured, silent. The catwalk creaked under her weight, but she barely noticed. Her eyes were on the light ahead—the one bleeding from Tessk’s office, warm and ugly.

She heard the tail end of Ace’s little standoff as she neared.

“Cut the chit, Tessk. Call off the bounty. Now.”

Her lips twitched at that. Not a smile. Something colder.

She stopped just outside the doorway. Didn’t enter. Didn’t speak. Just leaned lightly against the rusted frame, arms crossed, the shadows cutting sharp lines across her face.

Inside, she saw the setup. Tessk—bigger than she expected. Greedy eyes. Two droids. Crackling staves. Old tech, but well-maintained. Heavy hitters.

“One for each of us,” she muttered under her breath.

A soft click followed as her blaster slid back into her hand.

The droid nearest her twitched, head turning ever so slightly in her direction.

She didn’t flinch.

Instead, she pushed off the frame and stepped into the room—slow, deliberate. The kind of stride meant to make predators hesitate. She said nothing to Ace. Just circled slightly wide, keeping one eye on the droid that had keyed onto her.

Acier Moonbound​