Private Good Trouble

[Adelle Bastiel]

Coronet City, Corellia
Tags: Mishel

Kor Vella had burned. The Galactic Empire had sunk their claws into Coronet City. Adelle hated it. Even though the Sith Covenant gutted the Empire at Coruscant, broke their infrastructure in one single, brutal swoop, Imperial remnants still dug in, entrenching themselves, trying to hang on to every last shred of power they could.

Adelle walked out of the spaceport, slinging a bag of something heavy over her shoulder. The top half of her armorweave bodysuit felt weirdly light and cold without her beskar’gam but for what she had planned, she needed to not be noticed all that much moving about the city. She’d thrown her worn black leather jacket over the armorweave, her pants catching a little on the plates underneath but otherwise moving smoothly.

The Imperials had dug into the capital building and the surrounding government buildings. CorSec plaza would probably be untouched or only barely touched if that; every Imperial regime had to make concessions to Corellia’s fierce independence and CorSec was always one. Adelle didn’t have plans for high profile targets like that. It was beyond her capabilities currently and her firepower.

No, her targets were smaller. Bars Imperials liked to hang out at, Imperial security checkpoints, speeder bays. She kept her eyes out for holocams, trooper patrols— A presence like wildfire blazed in the Force nearby. Adelle took a moment and looked around. There were still people walking around, albeit less than there would have been before the Imperial occupation. One of Coronet’s many cafes sat in front of her, its patio fairly empty.

But the wildfire felt strongest there.

Adelle kept a casual pace, noting who was sat out on the patio. A handful of people, one table looking like a date, one table with a suit, and one with a brunette wearing a yellow jacket. The wildfire blazed around her. Jedi, and a Master if the strength of her presence was anything to go by. Adelle adjusted the bag on her shoulder as she kept walking, the armor plates inside clanging against her buy’ce. She winced at the sound it made, hoping nothing had scratched the visor.

A Jedi Master on Corellia. A useful ally, provided she was interested in making some trouble for the Imperials.

Slowly, Adelle relaxed her hold on Art of the Small, letting her presence bleed into the Force as she continued her search for a suitable Imperial target. If the Jedi followed, maybe she’d have an ally. If not, she’d continue as planned.

Trouble for the Imperials.

 

[Mishel]

Corellia wore occupation the way it wore everything else, with clenched teeth and a straight back. Sith banners hung over where Imperial sigils, and before that corporate sigils once did. Troopers moved in pairs instead of threes, cautious. The city hadn't submitted. It had simply learned to breathe differently.

Mishel sat at a corner table of her favorite bar slash tea house, a strange little Atrisian holdover tucked between duracrete and glass. Somehow it had survived the shifting alliances, the riots, the reshuffling of flags. The owner had never replaced the chipped lacquer tables. The tea was still served too hot.

She preferred it that way.

The top half of her yellow leather jacket was unzipped, draped loosely over a plain white shirt. No visible weapons. No visible rank. Just another woman nursing a bowl of rice and broth while Imperials took up more and more space in the city she did not belong to, and yet found herself in anyway.

The bar had become popular with the wrong sort lately.

Uniforms came in without helmets. Officers liked to sit near the patio where they could watch the street and be watched in return. It was performative control. Visibility masquerading as authority.

The brunette lifted her tea and let the steam brush her face.

Power vacuums always followed collapse. The Alliance had fractured, again, and wherever structures shattered, something eager filled the cracks. Nationalists. Ideologues. Opportunists. Sometimes all three in the same uniform.

She didn't need the Force to see it.

But she used it anyway.

The shift came like a spark in dry brush.

Wild. Contained, barely. Deliberately contained.

Her fingers paused against the ceramic cup.

Across the street, something flared.

Not loud. Not careless.

But dangerous in the way of someone who had learned to make their fire small.

Mishel didn't look immediately.

She took another sip of tea first.

Casually she looked toward the source of the other presence, she gave a polite quiet nod. A gesture for the woman to join her, as if Mishel had been expecting her.

In truth, the Jedi Master expected little these days. Someone she figured had to get boots on the ground on what was happening with her master's ancestral homeworld.

Mishel waved a waiter over and ordered another round of rice, soup and some tea for her guest.

Adelle Bastiel

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Coronet City, Corellia
Tags: Mishel

The Jedi nodded: an invitation. It took very little adjustment to angle her steps as if the patio had always been her destination. And with the message received, Adelle shrank her presence again with Art of the Small. This close to the Core and the Sith Covenant, Adelle had no need to advertise who she was.

She set her bag down gently, the armor plates still clinking softly, before she took a seat opposite the Jedi.

“Been a while,” Adelle said, adjusting the jacket over her armorweave as she sat. Better to approach her as if they’d known each other for a while. There was nothing conspicuous about a couple of friends catching up. “How’ve you been getting on with the new roommates?”

Her Corellian accent came out strong, as if she'd never left Coronet. It’d been like that since she departed her ship earlier. Adelle dared the Imps to do something about it.