Private Just another day

[Kiran Arlos]

Bastion
Aknoby
​

The hangar reeked of fuel, sweat, and cheap promises the usual perfume of a job well paid and poorly planned. Kiran stood near the ramp of the freighter, arms crossed, eyes tracking the last crate as it disappeared into the waiting cargo sled. Bastion's cold breath seeped through the open bay doors, carrying the metallic tang of the city's lower levels.

"Cargo delivered. No shots fired. That's a first." one of the smugglers joked, slapping him on the shoulder as they passed.

Kiran couldn't help but chuckled as he gave a simple nod of his head. He was just glad to make sure the cargo made it here in one piece. And it had. For now, that was enough.

By the time he left the docks, the neon haze of the upper ring was starting to glow through the grime. Bastion at night was a place that didn't bother pretending — loud, sharp, alive in all the ways honest worlds weren't. He found the first pub that looked like it wouldn't check weapons at the door, shouldered through the entry, and let the sound wash over him: clinking glasses, off-key music, laughter that didn't reach the eyes.

He ordered a cup of caf, leaned against the counter, and for the moment let the worries of his mind settle..

 

[Aknoby]

Aknoby was enjoying his time off. He was almost barred from entering the pub, but being part of the Lilaste Order and starting to gain a certain reputation for his actions in certain events is making him recognized by the citizens of Diarchy.

The teenager was calm, carrying one of his usual lightsabers, but only one of them so as not to cause unnecessary apprehension among civilians.

Entering the pub without any shame, he ordered hot chocolate. The days were getting colder, and for some reason, the autumn weather was so cozy.

He sat down with his order, making no effort to hide his presence in the Force.

Kiran Arlos

 

[Kiran Arlos]

Aknoby
​

Then the door slid open, and for a moment, the noise dimmed.

A young man entered no older than seventeen, maybe eighteen his presence impossible to miss. Even before Kiran saw the glint of metal at his belt, he felt it: the subtle pulse of the Force like a heartbeat beneath the surface of the air. The boy's coat was worn but clean, his step unhurried. A single lightsaber hung at his hip a compromise, perhaps, between confidence and restraint.

Hot chocolate....? What's that? Kiran thought curiously...

Aknoby, though Kiran didn't yet know the name took his cup and found a seat not far from where the mercenary stood. He made no effort to hide his presence in the Force. It flowed freely around him, calm and steady, like sunlight breaking through Bastion's gray skyline. The scent of cocoa drifted faintly in the air, oddly out of place among the stench of blaster oil and ale.

Kiran turned slightly, studying him the deliberate openness, the quiet composure that didn't quite fit the chaos of the city. There was power there, but not the kind that reached for control. It rested, grounded in something older and harder to define.

For a long moment, neither spoke. The hum of conversation filled the space between them. Then the boy looked up, meeting Kiran's gaze as though he'd felt it all along.

"Hey there!" he said simply, warmth in his tone that didn't match the steel of Bastion outside. "What is that you are drinking?" Kiran asked, even though he knew the answer already. Looking down at his cup of caf, he looked back over to him.

Kiran's gloved hand tightened slightly around his glass. "Is that stuff pretty good?"