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.

 

[Mishel]

The atmosphere remained unchanged, people moved about, the bar, teahouse, whatever it wanted to be continued on with business.

Mishel thought nothing of it as the other woman sat at her table, and the food was placed before them. "The usual," she responded fluidly, "you know, how it is, with Echani and Hapan women. Always something." She exhaled after a delicate sip of her tea. "You? How are things with you? Last I heard you were doing long hauls."

She kept it casual, as she continued with the meal. Although it had been awhile since she head heard such a thick accent. Only Coren seemed to possess it and that was when he was extremely exhausted. "If you're interested, I can take you back to the apartment. Maybe you can sort the women out, you look like the strong type."

Adelle Bastiel ​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Coronet City, Corellia
Tags: Mishel

The server came back with food and a cup of tea. Ah feth. Adelle didn’t like tea, if only because she was never sure how to drink it. Some of the Jedi in her old order had made a ritual of it, discussing notes and florals and steeping times. Some of them just treated it like a flavored version of caf. And since Adelle abused her caf, she had never had a good cup of tea.

“Busy,” Adelle said honestly. “Was all the way out past the Ghost Nebula most recently. Got a little homesick so I made time to visit my folks.”

Idly she wondered if their plaques were still there. Adelle had her father’s diamond mounted in a pendant, left safely on her ship, but there’d been nothing— She didn’t have her mother’s ashes to make a diamond for her. If she still had anything sacred left, it would be those plaques. Adelle took a sip of tea, keeping the wince mostly off her face. Like drinking bitter, stained water

The Jedi invited her back to the apartment to deal with the Echani and Hapan roommates, but Adelle didn’t sense any layered meaning beneath. Which meant she was playing along but hadn’t caught that Adelle meant the Imps occupying Corellia.

“Well, I’ve got some business to attend to first,” she said. “My parents had new neighbors move in that have made things quite difficult. So I’m going to try and make a point they won’t forget.”

Sending messages to an unfamiliar Force presence was challenging but Adelle could manage impressions. She focused on an image of an Imperial flag burning and a feeling of invitation. Adelle would be hitting Imperial targets and the Jedi was welcome to join as she liked.

“But if you still need help with those roommates after, I can see what I can do,” she said. “It’d be a nice change of pace from the routine.”

Adelle took another sip of tea and fought the grimace that followed. How did people drink this?

 

[Mishel]

Adelle Bastiel
​

Mishel leaned in as if assisting with something far more delicate than rebellion.

"What is it with big armored ladies," she murmured, reaching for the teapot, "and being intimidated by a tea cup?"

She stood, circled the small table, and knelt casually beside Adelle, unbothered by the open courtyard or the Imperials pretending not to watch. Without hesitation, she wrapped her hands gently around Adelle's.

"Like this," she said, adjusting her grip. "And then we pour."

She demonstrated, steady and precise, amber liquid flowing cleanly into porcelain.

"See? Easy." A smirk tugged at her mouth. "Peasy. Sith are squishy."

Her eyes flicked toward the courtyard, the Imperial patrol pacing beyond the low stone railing.

"Those roommates," she added lightly, "might actually be the least of our concerns."

She rose smoothly, brushing dust from her jacket. "I can accompany you to these… little stops."

A few credits clinked against the table. She pocketed a biscuit in a napkin, shoved another into her mouth, and started walking as if they were merely heading out for a stroll.

Unfortunately for Adelle, Mishel had never been synonymous with subtle.

"You'd think Imperials would decorate better," she observed, voice pitched conversationally as they stepped onto the street. "At least the First Order had taste. Then again…" She tilted her head slightly. "A woman was in charge. Tyrannical, sure. But aesthetically consistent."

Her gaze skimmed a banner draped crookedly over a municipal building.

"Some of this looks like it was borrowed from U'emt surplus," she muttered. "What, couldn't afford the real deal?"

She exhaled slowly.

"I used to be better at this," she admitted under her breath.

Ahead, two Imperial patrolmen rounded the corner, rifles slung but alert, helmets tucked under their arms in the lazy arrogance of occupying soldiers.

Mishel didn't slow.

She extended her awareness, not flaring, not blazing, just enough.

A loose chunk of duracrete trembled at the edge of a damaged fountain.

With a flick of her fingers, subtle, almost dismissive, the stone snapped free and launched.


It struck one trooper square in the shoulder with a sickening crack, sending him sprawling into his partner. The second stumbled, scrambling for his rifle, confusion flooding his posture before fear could.

Mishel tilted her head slightly.

"Subtle," she murmured dryly. "Overrated."

And now the street was awake.

Troopers started to rush toward the scene, "boys, boys, boys please, there's plenty to go around." She said with a smirk, as she summoned her light saber from its hilt on her left to her right hand. Using her left hand to throw more chunks of duracrete around.

​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Mishel

When the Jedi leaned over and spoke quietly, Adelle’s eyebrows lifted and she gave the other woman a look. Intimidated by a tea cup, her ass. It was the tea and the pretentions she’d heard from other Jedi, other people that intimidated her. But it also confirmed that the woman had heard the armor plates in her bag.

As the woman knelt by her side and put her hands around Adelle’s hand, Adelle gave her a sidelong glance as a smirk played around her mouth.

“You are the first,” she said, “to ever accuse me of being big. You’re, what? My height? Maybe an inch shorter?”

Not that she was going to complain about the closeness. The Jedi was attractive and if Adelle hadn’t been there on business, she might have tried her luck. As it was, she rolled her eyes after the joint pour.

“Riiiight, I’ll keep that in mind.”

The ordered rhythm of military steps came as an Imperial patrol passed by outside the patio. Adelle spared them a glance as the woman rose, and grabbed a biscuit and shoved it into her jacket pocket. She wasn’t hungry right now but she would be later.

And fortunately, it seemed the Jedi would accompany her.

Adelle reached down and grabbed the bag with her remaining armor plates and buy’ce while the woman tossed some credits and picked up a couple biscuits for herself. Slinging the bag over a shoulder, Adelle followed the Jedi out of the patio and onto the path. Innocuous enough, since their presence for anyone watching had been established as being well-acquainted.

The Jedi turned the conversation towards the Imperial remnant still occupying Corellia, criticizing their design choices. Adelle gave her a look that was both incredulous and amused.

“Is this what passes for small talk these days?” Adelle teased. But she left off when the woman admitted under her breath to having not done this sort of thing in a while. Adelle hadn’t been undercover herself in a while: she hadn’t needed to be. Unless hiding her Force sensitive nature around Mandos when she initially arrived into the Empire counted.

A pair of troopers rounded the corner, out of uniform with their helmets tucked under their arms. Adelle clicked her tongue in disgust. No one in CorSec would’ve been so sloppy. Seems like Adelle’s plan for asymmetrical warfare had been made at the right time: the Imperials had a false sense of security that could be exploited.

The Force shifted subtly, and Adelle almost missed it. But the chunk of duracrete hit one of the troopers with the sound of a slugthrower.

Adelle didn’t miss the Jedi’s dry comment.

“Osik,” she breathed. The bag with her armor plates dropped to the ground as the patrol commed in the altercation and more Imperials started arriving at the municipal square. Adelle pulled her own lightsaber from its place on the back of her belt.

“Couldn’t have given me five minutes,” she muttered, facing the opposite direction from the Jedi. “Wouldn’t have even needed a full five minutes, I can throw on armor in less than three.”

Troopers emerged from nearby military and municipal buildings. As soon as they saw the Jedi behind her throwing rocks with the Force, they opened fire. Her cobalt blue blade ignited, catching the red bolts and deflecting them with ease.

“So beyond causing chaos,” Adelle asked, raising her voice to be heard over the blasterfire, “did you have a plan when you threw that rock?”

 

[Mishel]

Mishel cackled a little recalling the mention moments ago, that she had been the first to accuse the other woman of being big and so Mishel with a cheeky grin. A boot to the chestplate of a trooper, "well, if the beskad fits." The impact sent him stumbling. She blew Adelle an exaggerated kiss before shoving the trooper away with a sharp burst of telekinesis that sent him skidding across stone.

Her lightsaber snapped to life in a clean blue arc.

She carved through a blaster barrel in one smooth pass. The weapon sparked, split, and clattered uselessly to the ground.

"Oh no," she drawled, stepping inside another trooper's guard. "That's tragic. It just… stopped working."

An elbow snapped back into someone's ribs. She pivoted, hooked a boot behind his ankle, and brought the hilt of her saber up hard into his groin. The trooper folded with a strangled gasp.

"Honestly," she muttered, spinning past him, "you'd think they'd train for this."

Another trooper lunged.

Mishel slipped sideways, impossibly fluid, yellow jacket flashing between muzzle flares. She flicked her wrist and tore a chunk of duracrete loose from a fractured column, hurling it into the line of advancing soldiers. It exploded in a spray of rubble, punching a hole straight through their formation.

"Oh?" she called over her shoulder. "Only three more? That's adorable."

Blaster fire streaked past.

Another cackle, "oh? Only three? My, my, my, aren't we dexterous, just the way I like my ladies, big, but with nimble and agile fingers."

She didn't stop moving.

"Right," she added lightly, stepping through the debris cloud as if strolling through dust motes, "we're probably going to want to relocate our current activities to less populated arenas."

She inhaled once, sharp.

The Force tightened.

Heat gathered at her palm, not wild, not raging, controlled. Compressed. She wound back like a Corellian pitcher and released.

The fireball slammed into a chestplate with concussive force, hurling the trooper backward into a stack of supply crates. Smoke curled from scorched plastoid.

Mishel clicked her tongue at the remaining soldiers still scrambling in the courtyard.

"Tut, tut," she said pleasantly. "Occupiers really should read the room."

She stepped back toward Adelle, blade angled low, eyes bright with that reckless, battle-warmed grin.

"See?" she said. "Survival. Very underrated strategy."

​

Adelle Bastiel​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Mishel

The Jedi, it seemed, was all quips and chaos. Adelle smiled grimly, her own blade a strobe of blue light as the troopers closed the distance. She carved through the blaster of one before grabbing his helmet and smashing his head into the body of the trooper next to him. Her blade deflected another two bolts before her heel crashed into the side of a knee, the joint twisting unnaturally.

More soldiers closed the distance and Adelle sped up her pace, blending Jedi lightsaber techniques with brutal Mandalorian unarmed strikes.

Another cackle, "oh? Only three? My, my, my, aren't we dexterous, just the way I like my ladies, big, but with nimble and agile fingers."

The laugh Adelle gave was short and breathless. “You should see how fast I can take it off. Sufficiently motivated, I think I can best my personal record.”

A few more soldiers were incapacitated before one decided to be smart and call for backup. They were going to empty the whole garrison at this point and be facing off a small army. Which wouldn't be the worst thing but it definitely placed on Adelle's list of questionable life decisions.

"Right," she added lightly, stepping through the debris cloud as if strolling through dust motes, "we're probably going to want to relocate our current activities to less populated arenas."

“Agreed,” Adelle said with a smirk, only slightly out of breath. “I prefer my strenuous activities in private.”

Then the Jedi launched a fireball into the chest of a charging soldier. Adelle’s eyebrows rose, the conflict momentarily forgotten. A blaster bolt sailed past her head and grabbed her attention again.

“That was hot,” she said, stepping back into the rhythm of their battle. “You’re going to have teach me that one later.”

Adelle reached out her left hand and Pulled the bag with her armor inside to her.

“If you know a less populated place,” she said, deflecting another bolt into the troopers, “I’m all ears.”

 

[Mishel]

Mishel glanced over her shoulder looking right at Adelle just after she mentioned just how fast she could take off her armor, "I'll keep that in mind, vod." An emphasizes on the word vod as she maneuvered into a round house kick sending an Imperial officer to the ground.

She scanned the area, "there, I think that's what passes for a speeder." The brunette rushed toward a two-seat thin, almost frail looking speeder. "Ancestors bless it looks like it's hanging on to dear life." She without even looking punched another Imperial and with a little help from her telekinesis sent another flying into his comrade.

Another bit of laughter. "Have no fear, I don't kiss and tell." She said with a wink toward the armored woman, likely Mandalorian if she gathered correctly. She turned around just in time to see an Imperial armored vehicle heading toward them.

"Oh that?" Mishel tossed another fireball toward another plastoid-armored man, "maybe once we're out of here I might be able to show you."

"Destination, less populated area, the journey? Evading these guys." The Jedi Sentinel jerked her thumb toward the seemingly endless pile of troopers and Imps. "We can make good trouble elsewhere, and uh." A brief moment to catch her breath as she took the passenger seat.

Adelle Bastiel ​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Mishel

Adelle glanced over her shoulder as the Jedi ran to a pile of scrap that apparently was a speeder in disguise. The comment about it hanging on for dear life was generous.

“Beggars and choosers,” she muttered, deflecting a couple more bolts back into the advancing soldiers. Adelle turned and vaulted into the seat beside the chaos-incarnate woman. Ah feth. The driver’s seat. Fortunately, the hunk of junk didn’t have any of the security of most modern speeders. Adelle was able to start the ignition and take off, the Imperial armored vehicle just coming to a stop in the square.

“You got directions or am I having to figure this out on my own?” Adelle took a hand off the steering yoke and started shrugging off her jacket. Since she had the time, might as well armor herself up. A few bolts went wide around their vehicle. Adelle swore under her breath and cornered down another lane as soon as she could.

She pulled her other arm out of the jacket, wind now whipping against her armorweave, and grabbed a pauldron. Adelle held it out to the Jedi.

“Mind giving me a hand? It’s hard to do one-handed,” she said.

 

[Mishel]

The hunk-of-junk speeder rattled like it resented being alive.

"No idea," Mishel called over the roar of engines and blaster fire. "My Master's from Corellia. I was raised on Virgillia VII by the Knights of Ren."

It was the first thing she'd said all evening that wasn't wrapped in sarcasm.

"Also," she added, twisting in her seat to fling a compressed burst of flame behind them, a patrol speeder swerved hard to avoid it, "where are my manners? Name's Mishel. Mishel Kryze."

Wind tore the words away almost as fast as she said them.

She'd only just noticed the other woman shrugging out of her jacket when the whistle slipped out of her.

Blaster bolts streaked past.

The brunette ducked instinctively, grin never fully leaving her face.

The armored woman asked for help, or at least implied it, and Mishel flashed that dangerous, amused smile.

"Happy to help, soldier."

A blast slammed into the side of the speeder.

Metal shrieked.

The passenger side disintegrated in a shower of sparks, and Mishel shifted without hesitation, swinging up and onto the back of the driver's seat in one fluid motion as debris tore past them.

Her legs locked in for balance as the speeder bucked.

"Subtle ride," she muttered approvingly.

She leaned forward, steadying herself against the Mandalorian's shoulder while adjusting the exposed armor weave with practiced efficiency.

"Only a hand?" she teased, voice low but steady despite the chaos. "I'm wounded."

Another volley of blaster fire scorched the pavement ahead.

Mishel twisted at the waist, deflecting one bolt with a flick of telekinesis while another grazed the engine cowling.

"They're not letting up," she said, tone shifting, not panicked, just calculating.

She glanced over her shoulder at the narrowing streets ahead.

"I have an idea."

A beat.

"You're not going to like it."

Her eyes sparkled.

Adelle Bastiel ​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Mishel

The Jedi confessed to having no idea where a less populated area would be. Adelle set her jaw and moved the bag of armor to her lap. Fine, she’d do this by memory. Hopefully the occupiers hadn’t seen fit to start revamping Coronet’s infrastructure since the last time she’d been here.

Originally, Adelle had been just driving ‘away’ from the square that seemed to hold Coronet’s garrison of local regime enforcers. She turned another corner, still angling away but trying to lose the armored speeder behind them. Adelle nodded when the woman introduced herself, trying to remember old routes she used to know.

“Adelle Bastiel,” she said tersely.

No sooner had the Jedi agreed to help than the armored vehicle landed a hit on the rickety-ass speeder. Most of the passenger side sheared off with a Whills-awful sound as the woman jumped to the driver’s side, her legs settling around Adelle’s shoulders.

“Was this speeder held together by the hopes and dreams of a gambler?” Adelle muttered. Adelle used one hand to turn the yoke sharply, narrowly avoiding another speeder as she rapidly figured out how to get from where they were to where she wanted to be. With the other hand, she pulled the breastplate from the bag and pressed it into position on the armorweave. These roads and this speeder reminded her of the swoop joyride she and her mom had gone on.
A speeder lane heading out of the city, a swoop bike on the side of the road. Her father coming to get them.

Sometimes, a memnis did come in handy.

"Only a hand?" she teased, voice low but steady despite the chaos. "I'm wounded."

Adelle smiled grimly. “Maybe later I’ll ask for more.”

At the mention of an idea she wouldn’t like, Adelle scoffed.

“Guarantee I’ve had worse. Do it.”

 

[Mishel]

Mishel flashed Adelle a grin.

Then she laughed.

Not the quick, sharp cackle from earlier, this was deeper. Throaty. Full. Something older in it. Something she'd only ever heard once before, in a voice she shared blood with.

"Hold on," she said.

The Force coiled.

Not outward.

Inward.

Compressed.

She twisted in her seat, one hand braced against the ruined speeder frame, the other extended behind them. The air distorted, dust, shrapnel, loose duracrete, even the pressure of the blaster fire itself drawn into a tightening sphere of invisible strain.

For a heartbeat, everything behind them went still.


Then Mishel released it.

The telekinetic detonation ripped backward like a shockwave tearing through glass. Pursuing speeders buckled mid-air, metal twisting inward before exploding outward. Fire and debris consumed the narrow street in a concussive bloom.

The blast wave hit their speeder a split second later.

It disintegrated beneath them.

Momentum threw both women skyward in a violent arc of smoke and sparks.

Mishel didn't hesitate.

She lunged forward, catching Adelle by the armor plating and hauling her close as gravity reclaimed them. One arm locked around the Mandalorian's torso; the other flared outward, the Force bracing against their fall.

Adelle Bastiel​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Coronet City, Corellia
Tags: Mishel

The laugh was a little more than mildly concerning. Adelle quickly shoved on the rest of her armor and grabbed her helmet as Mishel told her to hold on and began manipulating the Force behind them. She couldn’t tell exactly what Mishel was doing but she pulled her helm on and pushed it down into place. Everything seemed to pull towards the point where the Force wound in on itself tightly.

For a breath, it was silent.

Then the Force exploded like a thermal detonator, the blast wave catching up to them and ripping through the ragged pieces of the speeder. Adelle felt herself become airborne from the force of the blast, Mishel getting thrown along with her.

Well. That certainly ranked on her list of questionable life decisions.

Mishel grabbed her and held on with one hand, drawing on the Force again as they started to fall hard. Adelle wrapped her armored arms over the Jedi’s head just in case and threw up a hasty stasis field below them, using her body as a reference point.

Their combined efforts slowed them enough.

The landing was still rough.

Adelle hit the ground first on her right side, momentum carrying Mishel’s weight over her as they tumbled a few feet. The kinetic gel had done a lot to absorb the force of landing with weight on top of her but she could still feel bruises forming already. Adelle groaned and rolled to her knees, pushing herself upright as she looked back at the street they had just left. There was a lot of fire from destroyed speeders but she could already hear sirens in the distance as emergency crews were dispatched.

Adelle looked over at Mishel and stood, still breathless from the fall.

“You owe me a new jacket,” she said lightly. “Now let’s bail before more Imps show up.”