Private Orientation Day

[Tess Wyn-Tai]

Location: Imperial Center Naval Academy, Coruscant
Tags: Ryn Trask | Hannibal Daxos

Sleek gray shuttles, emblazoned with the black cog of the Galactic Empire, touched down one by one. From their ramps poured the chosen few: fresh cadets, some shoulders squared with pride, others trembling with nerves. Tess felt neither. Her gaze swept across the colossal spires of Coruscant, the horizon-spanning traffic streams, and the Naval Academy itself, right at the heart of the landing zone. The Academy stood as a cathedral to the Empire. Its black durasteel walls gleamed under Coruscant's endless day, banners of the Empire rippling from tall arches. It was a place built for precision, designed to forge perfection into flesh and bone.

Tess's heart hammered with anticipation, not fear. Sacorria's laws had fenced her in back home; here, the Academy seemed to fling its doors wide open. This wasn't just any class; it was the first since the Core's retaking, and not everyone made the cut. These cadets were the future, the spearhead of the Empire, destined to pilot TIE fighters and Star Destroyers into the stars.

A stern instructor, clad in Navy black and gray, strode to meet them. His voice, crisp and authoritative, carried across the assembly. "Welcome, Cadets. You've been chosen from among thousands. Today you begin the service that will shape your lives. Follow." And so, the first tour of the Academy began.

The tour led them through vast corridors, gleaming under white lights, their boots echoing on immaculate floors. First stop was the mess hall, a cavernous space with rows of tables stretching out. Holo-banners displayed the Empire's insignia above the serving lines, and Tess inhaled the faint, promising scent of ration stew and fresh bread. Cadets around her whispered; some already felt homesick, others giddy. Tess just grinned. To her, even the smell of processed air and institutional food tasted like victory.

Next, the dormitories. Coed halls surprised some recruits, but Tess merely smirked. Speeders didn't care about a pilot's gender, and neither would a TIE. Identical bunks lined both sides of the hall, each with a small locker at its foot. Tess traced the cold edge of a bed, already picturing how she'd claim it and make this sterile space hers.

Classrooms followed, lined with polished consoles, holo-projectors, and data screens. Tess paused at the simulators, their last stop. Dozens of pods filled a dim chamber, each sealed and ready to enclose a cadet within a mock cockpit. She imagined the roar of engines. Her fingers twitched, itching to take the controls and see how these machines compared to her patched-up Sacorrian speeder.

But the real thrill came at the end of the day: uniforms. Each cadet was measured, issued their standard kit, and given their dorm assignment. Tess turned the dark, spotless fabric over in her hands, heavy with expectation. She slipped into it like a second skin, the Imperial crest settling on her chest as a natural fit.

Dismissed to their bunks, the dormitory hallways buzzed with chatter. Some whispered of prestige, others swapped jokes to hide their nerves. Tess leaned casually against her doorframe, arms crossed, listening. Accents from across the Core mixed in the air; Alderaanian, Brentaalan, Corulag. But their origin didn't matter. In the Empire's eyes, they were all raw steel, ready for the forge.

Tess's grin was sharp, her eyes bright. Sacorria was behind her, its dirt clinging to her boots, but stars already gleamed in her gaze. This was the beginning she'd wanted: the risk, the speed, the chance to prove herself in the only arena that mattered. When one cadet muttered, half-nervous, "Reckon any of us will see the front lines soon?" Tess laughed aloud, the sound reckless and alive, shaking her head.

 

[Hannibal Daxos]

Tess Wyn-Tai Ryn Trask​

Hannibal Daxos stood at the back of the formation, arms clasped firmly behind his back as the shuttles disgorged their cargo of cadets. His eyes, sharp and unblinking, tracked each face with the precision of a hunter studying his quarry. Pride was evident in some, fear in others, both were raw materials. The Empire had no use for pride without discipline, nor fear without control. These youths would be hammered into something useful, or they would break.

Coruscant's Academy loomed before them like a monument to power, its black durasteel catching the pale gleam of the city's endless day. Daxos never stopped feeling the weight of that place, a cathedral to order, to purpose.

As the instructor barked his welcome, Daxos remained silent, his gaze cutting across the cadets. One caught his eye, a girl, She grinned where others shifted nervously, her stance one of restless hunger rather than uncertainty. It was a dangerous thing, that kind of spark. He would see soon enough whether it was recklessness to be stamped out or fire to be shaped into steel.

The tour moved through the Academy's pristine halls, boots clicking in perfect rhythm on polished floors. Daxos watched how the cadets carried themselves, whether they kept formation, whether they whispered when they should have remained silent. He had a ledger in his mind already, tallying strengths, weaknesses, those who might thrive and those destined to wash out. The simulators drew them like moths to flame; he noted the way their eyes lit, the way their fingers twitched.

Later, when uniforms were distributed, he lingered by the dorms, arms folded. The black-and-gray fabric turned children into silhouettes of soldiers, but fabric was not steel, and insignias were not earned by mere donning. In the chatter of the bunks, he listened for voices too loud, laughter too easy, fear too exposed. Her laugh rang out above the rest, bold, reckless. Yet, as he stood there he couldn't help but feel the excitement of what was to come in the next few days.

"Reckon any of us will see the front lines soon?"

He looked to Tess as she shook her head, seemingly dismissing the though the other cadet had, and Daxos had to intervene.

"That would be extraordinary though, I'd relish the chance to go out there and prove myself." He knew this was more excitement rising in him than anything, the need to make a mark for himself. He wouldn't be able to do that if he was reckless and dead.

"We should probably get through the first weeks of training before we think about that though." Hannibal gave a small nod to the girl as he extended his hand towards her. "My name is Hannibal Daxos, most just call me Daxos though." He smirked and chuckled, much less to say than his last name, which is why that was preferred, he was hardly called by his first name, unless he did something terrible wrong.

 

[Ryn Trask]

Hannibal Daxos Tess Wyn-Tai​

Cadet Ryn Trask had already decided the Academy smelled too much like disinfectant and nerves. Neither sat well with him. He had barely tossed his issued jacket onto its hook before the collar started choking him like it had been designed by some sadistic tailor.

Now, half-buttoned uniform hanging loose, light brown hair in hopeless disarray, Ryn leaned around the open door of his locker just in time to hear Tess and Hannibal debating the grand idea of throwing themselves onto the front lines.

He groaned loudly, dragging the sound out for maximum effect.

"Come on, guys, of all the things to get starry eyed over, you pick marching straight into the meat grinder?"

Ryn popped his head fully out, freckles catching in the harsh dorm light. His hands swung in wide, exasperated gestures, the white undershirt flashing beneath his unfastened jacket.

"Think about it. Endless drills, endless lectures, and you want to add dodging turbolasers and eating ration paste under fire? Not exactly my idea of a good time."

Then came the grin, lopsided, too selfassured by half, but infectious all the same.

"Let's focus on the important questions. Like where we're gonna hit during leave hours. I heard there's a bar a few levels down that serves fried nerf ribs that'll make you forget what system you're in. Now that's a mission worth risking our necks for."

He winked, leaning back against the locker frame like he had already claimed the place as his own.

 

[Tess Wyn-Tai]

Location: Imperial Center Naval Academy, Coruscant
Tags: Ryn Trask | Hannibal Daxos

Tess pushed off the doorframe where she'd been leaning, her arms unfolding as she tilted her head toward the two cadets. Her grin stretched wide, teeth flashing under the sterile dorm lights. For a moment, the shadows caught the sharp line of a scar nicking across her jaw, one of many trophies from speeder crashes back home. She looked wiry and restless, long-limbed, with blonde hair tied back in a messy tail that looked like it had barely survived the shuttle ride. Sacorrian soil still clung faintly to the boots at her feet, and dark eyes gleamed with a bright light, like stars reflected in water.

"Well, reckon that's where we're different," she drawled, her Sacorrian country lilt rolling soft but steady through the air. "I didn't come all this way t' hide behind lecture halls and cafeteria trays. Front lines sound just about right t' me. Sky's meant for flyin', not sittin'."

She glanced between Hannibal's measured stance and Ryn's exaggerated groan. Laughter bubbled from her chest like a creek rushing over stones, a sound that was open and maybe a little too loud for the stiff Academy halls. "Don't get me wrong," she said, wagging a finger toward Ryn with mock seriousness. "Fried nerf ribs sound mighty fine. But ribs don't make your blood sing like punchin' through the black with a TIE's scream in your ears. I'll take turbolasers any day."

Her shoulders squared, driven by sheer conviction. There was no calculation in her tone, no sense of consequence. Just raw want, the hunger of someone who'd grown up with dirt under her nails and eyes always lifted toward the sky. She stuck out her hand, first toward Hannibal, then to Ryn, her grin unshakable. "Name's Tess Wyn-Tai. Sacorria born, and I'll be damned if I don't make somethin' outta this. Y'all can worry about drills an' dinners. Me? I'm here t' fly." Her laugh came again, reckless and bright, echoing down the corridor like a promise.

 

[Hannibal Daxos]

Ryn Trask Tess Wyn-Tai​

Hannibal Daxos leaned against the doorway, arms folded, letting the sound of laughter and chatter roll through the hall like a familiar tune. He caught Ryn's words, the grin, the talk of bars and nerf ribs, and couldn't help the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. There it was. The spark. Every new class had one: the loud one, the joker, the kid who thought charm might soften the edges of Imperial discipline. As much as he wanted to object, that they were here for discipline and for being that line that goes up against the Empires enemies. The part of him that wanted something to belong to, it flickered for a mere second.

The introduction between the three was something of historic, without either of them knowing it. "It's good to meet you both." An easy smile that wasn't tempered with an authoritative note as he found himself doing at times..

And he knew better than to stomp out the first breath of camaraderie before the drills even started. They'd need it later, when the sleepless nights and pressure set in. Still, there had to be some sort of line to keep them in check.

"Ryn," Hannibal said, voice even, carrying just enough weight to draw a few looks from the dorm. He stepped into the light, the faint smile still there but tempered by authority. "Enjoy the jokes while you can. Humor's a fine thing, it keeps you alive, helps you remember you're still human in a place that'll test that. But remember, don't confuse surviving the Academy with sitting out the war. You're here because the Empire expects you to be more than clever."

He smirked lightly as he looked over to Tess. "There'll be time for that soon enough, Tess. But I feel Ryn is right, we should enjoy ourselves today, it might be the only good time we get for a long time."

They should enjoy today, for tomorrow, the Academy would be showing them the truth of things.

 

[Ryn Trask]

Tess Wyn-Tai Hannibal Daxos​

"Hey hey hey, I ain't hiding behind lecture halls and cafeteria trays there, Winnie." The nickname rolled off Ryn's tongue without hesitation, as if Tess had been saddled with it the moment she opened her mouth. Ryn leaned halfway out of his locker, brow arched in mock affront, like she had just accused him of the worst possible crime.

"I'm just saying, we're on our own now, and enjoying the finer things in life before it's all back-to-back drills and mission briefs is a good thing to look forward to." His grin spread over his freckled face, completely with little boy grin and utterly unrepentant.

Of course, Daxos had that straight-laced gleam in his eye, the kind that screamed regulation and recitation. Ryn gave an internal groan. Just his luck to be bunked with Mister By-the-Book.

"Come on, Daxos. Yes, yes, yes, the good ol' Empire and all that. That's why we're here, sure. Wonderful. Fantastic." He waved his hand as if brushing the whole speech aside, then jabbed a finger toward them both. "But food. Real food. Maybe even a good pool game. Don't tell me that doesn't sound like a better way to spend a night than polishing boots."

The moment Hannibal's lips twitched in the faintest agreement, Ryn pounced like a hawkbat spotting prey.

"Great idea! Yes. Last night out, gotta make it count." He was already tugging at the Academy jacket, switching out with practiced speed into the cleaner cut of their public uniform. Still Imperial, still pegged them as cadets, but at least it gave them a chance to breathe outside the War College walls.

"First round's on me," he said, flashing a wink at Hannibal and Tess both. It was a grin that promised trouble, the kind that came with laughter, poor decisions, and a night they'd probably be warned not to repeat.

 

[Tess Wyn-Tai]

Location: Imperial Center Naval Academy, Coruscant
Tags: Ryn Trask | Hannibal Daxos

Tess blinked when the nickname landed, her head jerking slightly as if hit by a stray blaster bolt. Her dark eyes widened, then narrowed in confusion as she turned to Ryn. Her brows knitted together above the faint scar that cut across her jaw. "What'd you just call me?" she asked, her country drawl thickening now that she was flustered. "Winnie? You makin' fun of me or somethin'?"

She crossed her arms, shoulders tightening. Her crossed arms and tightened shoulders acted as a shield. Her messy blonde hair slipped forward as she tilted her chin, trying to hold his gaze even as a faint flush warmed her cheeks. Sacorria didn't raise her to fold easily, but being singled out, nicknamed on the spot, tugged at a raw self-consciousness she hadn't expected to feel here.

For once, Tess went quiet. She leaned back against the doorframe again, this time keeping herself still rather than displaying cocky ease. She listened as the boys batted talk of bars and food. Her eyes flicked between Hannibal's careful caution and Ryn's boundless enthusiasm. Her mouth, initially a thin line, slowly softened, the idea beginning to sound less foolish and more appealing.

They weren't wrong. Tomorrow would bring grueling drills and orders that would grind them into dust if they weren't sharp. But tonight? Tonight, Coruscant stretched out below them, a city planet-sized promise.

Tess rolled her eyes when the two of them easily agreed and then turned expectantly toward her. She let out a little huff, a sound balancing resignation and reluctant laughter. "Fine," she muttered, finally uncrossing her arms. "But stars above, I ain't steppin' out into Coruscant nightlife looking like this." She grimaced, plucking at the standard-issue jacket. "Meet me down in the main plaza. We'll go poke around, see what's worth the fuss."

With that, Tess pushed away from the wall, her boots thudding against the dorm floor as she headed down the corridor toward her bunk.

An hour later, she emerged into the vast, glowing plaza beneath the Academy's shadow. Coruscant's lights reflected across the polished stone. Tess stood there, looking as though she'd made the most of her modest wardrobe to appear presentable.

Her blonde hair, freed from its messy tie, was brushed into loose waves that caught the neon glow. She wore a snug black flightsuit top tucked into fitted dark trousers, her jacket tied casually at her waist. A pair of scuffed boots, cleaned but still bearing the proud mark of Sacorria's dirt, anchored her look, making her seem more tomboyish than a polished cadet. These rough edges only sharpened her beauty, revealing a restless, untamed spark in her eyes that no uniform could file down.

Hands shoved into her pockets, Tess leaned against one of the plaza's towering columns, scanning the bustling streams of pedestrians and speeders rushing past overhead. Her heart beat fast, filled with the sheer thrill of it, not nerves this time. It was the first night of freedom in a city that never slept. She was ready, waiting for the boys.

 

[Hannibal Daxos]

Tess Wyn-Tai Ryn Trask​

His eyes slid briefly to Tess....Winnie, as Ryn so boldly christened her, measuring her reaction before flicking back to the freckled grin daring him to crack. Hannibal let the pause linger, long enough that Ryn's impatience practically vibrated off him. Daxos couldn't help but start laughing.

"One night won't kill us. Better get it out of your system now. After tomorrow, you won't have time to breathe, much less gamble over a pool table."

Ryn was already seemingly tugging them toward the door with the promise of trouble. Hannibal followed, slower, more measured, though the thought of fried nerf ribs and the sound of laughter outside these sterile halls didn't seem so bad after all.

He adjusted the fit of his jacket, clean as the day he purchased it, and leaned casually against a column. Ryn's idea had been reckless, sure, but Hannibal couldn't deny the appeal. One night free of the Academy's sterile corridors, one night to breathe before the drills began in earnest. He wasn't naive, discipline and sacrifice would define their days soon enough. But tonight, he could allow himself to feel the possibility of it all.

When Tess stepped into view, Hannibal's eyes tracked her immediately. She'd shed the raw edges of the dorms, straightening herself into something sharper, more deliberate. Not polished no, still defiance in the tilt of her chin he thought he saw, but she'd chosen how to present herself, and that mattered. She looked less like the flustered girl behind crossed arms and more like someone ready to test herself against the city, against everything it promised.

Hannibal pushed off the column, letting a faint smile curve his lips. He had never smiled as big as Ryn, but the sight of the three of them gathering here, on the brink of their first real night, stirred something steady and certain in him. This wasn't just about bars or ribs. And as the neon glow painted them, Hannibal found himself ready to see just what kind of cadets, and people they would become. Tonight, at least, they'd find out together.

"Shall we?"

 

[Ryn Trask]

Interacting with: Tess Wyn-Tai Hannibal Daxos

Ryn caught sight of her first, Winnie, all scrubbed up and standing under the neon lights like she had just stepped out of a holo ad for Trouble in Uniform.

"Hey, hey, before you get all defensive again," he said, hands raised in mock surrender as he sauntered closer, grin already hooked wide across his freckled face, "nicknames are good things. It means you're in. Not getting one?...well..." his voice waned, then he gave a little wince, clicking his tongue with a shake of his head.

"That's the sign you're not cool enough. So congratulations, Winnie, you've officially hit the big leagues."

Ryn gave a playful finger gun in her direction with another tongue click, before pivoting toward Hannibal, his grin turning conspiratorial.

"Don't worry, Daxos, I'm working on yours. Give it time. Gotta make sure it's got the right… flair."

Then, without missing a beat, he gave a long, appreciative whistle, eyes flicking between them both.

"Man, aren't we all pretty tonight," he drawled, spinning once on his heel like he was taking in the whole plaza. "Got a good feeling about this!"

The city sprawled around them in light and sound, speeders streaking through the air overhead, the hum of nightlife thick and alive. Ryn's pulse matched it, fast, reckless, ready. He stepped forward, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders, tugging them in with all the easy familiarity of someone who had known them longer than a day.

"So come on, the night's young!" he declared, bright blue eyes shining like someone about to start trouble and call it a team building exercise.

"Let's start off with a plan, and also -- "Leaning close to the pair as his voice hushed low," -- what's our safe word? You know, in case we need to get the kriff out fast. Gotta be prepared, right?"

Ryn looked between them with mock seriousness, waiting for their answers, though his smirk betrayed that he had no intention of sticking to any plan for long.

 

[Tess Wyn-Tai]

Location: Imperial Plaza, Coruscant
Tags: Hannibal Daxos | Ryn Trask

Tess tilted her chin toward Hannibal with a determined nod. She fell into stride between the boys; Hannibal steady and quiet on one side, Ryn all wild chatter and restless motion on the other.

"Big leagues, huh?" she muttered, her drawl skeptical. "Didn't know drinking and getting lost counted as a promotion." Despite the edge in her tone, a small smile softened her lips. If this was the big leagues, maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

As Ryn rattled on, his words bouncing like blaster bolts, Tess's gaze flicked sideways. She tried to think of a nickname for him; Pretty boy? Soft hands? The thoughts amused her so much a giggle escaped. She quickly turned to Hannibal, eyes narrowing playfully. Stretch, she decided silently, another laugh bubbling up at her own joke.

Then Ryn dropped that question about a safe word, and Tess nearly tripped over her own boots. Her whole face went red. "A... A safe word?" she stammered, looking from Ryn to Hannibal as if either might bail her out. Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat before blurting,

"Uh… I dunno, maybe… honey?"

The word hung in the air for a beat before she groaned softly, hiding her face. "Don't you dare laugh," she warned, though her own lips twitched with amusement.

As they walked deeper into the city, Tess's bravado faded. Coruscant stretched endlessly around them: lights, voices, speeders streaking across the sky like shooting stars. Back home, nights meant dust, crickets, and the hum of old engines. Here, everything shone.

For the first time since arriving, she felt small. Not weak, just aware. It was the kind of awe that made her heart beat faster and her palms itch for something real, something alive.

She glanced between the boys again, her smile returning, bright and impulsive. "You know what?" she said, tugging lightly at Ryn's sleeve before turning to Hannibal with a spark in her eyes. "I wanna dance. Somewhere loud, with lights n' music, all of it."

 

[Hannibal Daxos]

Ryn Trask Tess Wyn-Tai​

Hannibal folded his arms, shifting his weight slightly as he watched Ryn tease Tess with that nickname again. Winnie. It didn’t take a tactician to see it wasn’t meant to sting Ryn wasn’t cruel but Tess’s reaction had been worth the jab, and he knew Ryn was feeding off it. Hannibal was admiring that about her.

When the arm slung across his shoulders, Hannibal sighed and then laughed. “You’re incorrigible,” he muttered, glancing sidelong at Ryn, a smile on his face. “You know that, right?”

The city lights reflected off the lenses of passing speeders, streaks of white and gold flaring overhead. Down here, the plaza buzzed with noise and life vendors shouting over music, the faint tang of oil and spice in the air. The hum of it all had a pulse that matched their own, young and restless.

“Safe word?” Hannibal repeated, arching a brow. “Are you planning to start a riot or something?”

"Don't you dare laugh,"

At the mention of honey, he couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Too late on that."

As they started walking toward the edge of the plaza, Hannibal let the rhythm of the city settle into his bones. The neon glow caught Tess’s hair as she fell into step beside them, her earlier defensiveness giving way to a spark that matched Ryn’s. For a fleeting moment, he let himself enjoy it the rare feeling of being young and untested, before the drills, before the orders, before the war.

Hannibal couldn’t help but smile as they all fell in step, Coruscant’s endless glow stretched ahead. He stayed quiet for a moment, just out of habit. As they moved deeper into the plaza, the city opened up around them holo-signs bathing the streets in color, crowds shifting like currents around the three of them. Hannibal had been in cities before, but never one that felt this alive. Coruscant didn’t sleep; it burned.

When Tess suddenly tugged Ryn’s sleeve and turned that restless energy toward him eyes lit up, voice eager, saying she wanted to dance. Hannibal hesitated for only a heartbeat. The part of him that clung to order, to structure, told him it was a bad idea. But the other part, the one that felt the electric hum of the night in his bones, knew better.

He gave a small nod, the smirk returning. “Alright,” he said, glancing at Ryn, who already looked like a man about to set the galaxy on fire. “Let’s find your dance floor, Winnie. Lead the way.”

The name slipped out before he could stop it.

“Yea, I think you are stuck with that one.” Hannibal said sheepishly, as he turned red slightly, as he hadn’t planned on indulging in that nickname. Yet it rolled off the tongue quite well, and he smiled.

 

[Ryn Trask]

​

Location: Corusant
Interacting with: Tess Wyn-Tai Hannibal Daxos

Ryn burst out laughing the instant the word left her lips.

"Honey it is!" he called out with amusement that echoed over the hum of passing speeders. He held up both hands in mock surrender, shoulders shaking as he tried to contain his grin.

"Hey now, don't look at me like that, Winnie. I'm only teasing." His eyes softened, good-natured and bright beneath the mischief. At Hannibal's muttered, 'You're incorrigible', Ryn only turned with a wink, thumb and forefinger forming the shape of a blaster as he gave him a finger gun.

"Dancing it shall be, as Winnie demands! For what Winnie wants, Winnie shall get!"

Ryn made a grand, sweeping bow before straightening and taking point, energy radiating from him as they now had a plan.

"Alright, team," the Kuati said, spinning on his heel as he started walking backward through the crowd, "we don't want just any ol' dance floor. We want one where the beer's flowing, the food's topnotch, and you can literally feel the music in your head. I'm talking the kind of place where you forget which way's up."

It took a few wrong turns, some questionable directions from a droid vendor, and at least one detour past a spice parlor that Ryn swore he totally meant to avoid, but eventually, they found it: a narrow stairwell descending into a lower level pulsing with bass so deep it rattled the walls. Outside, a long line snaked toward a heavy metal door lit by shifting neon, the muffled thrum of music promising chaos and freedom.

Ryn turned to them both with a triumphant grin and pointed toward the line like he had just discovered treasure.

"Seeee? This is already a great sign!"

Ryn gave a low whistle, appraising the flashing lights and the crowd dressed in a kaleidoscope of color and attitude.

He chuckled and started forward toward the line, his impish tone carrying easily over the music.

"Alright cadets, Operation Don't Get Arrested starts now!"

 

[Tess Wyn-Tai]

Location: Outside Seedy Underground Club
Tags: Hannibal Daxos | Ryn Trask

Tess shot Hannibal a glare sharp enough to cut through his sheepish grin. "Stuck with it, huh?" she muttered, crossing her arms. "Guess I ain't got much say in it now."

She sighed, the fight draining fast into reluctant amusement. "Could be worse, I s'pose."

When the boys agreed on dancing, her whole demeanor shifted. A spark lit behind her eyes, her steps picking up with restless energy as they followed Ryn through the maze of alleys. She had no idea where he was going, none of them did, but somehow, that made it more fun.

By the time they reached the club, the thrum of bass was already rolling through her chest. Neon spilled from the doorway, and the line out front looked half a klick long. Tess bounced lightly on her heels, the rhythm from inside winding through her veins until her body moved on its own.

"Operation Don't Get Arrested?" she echoed, her lips curling into a teasing grin as she nudged Ryn with her elbow. "Should call it Operation Get Inside, pretty boy. We'll be fossils 'fore this line moves."

She turned then, appraising Hannibal with mock seriousness, head tilting as she looked him up and down. "You look all important-like," she said, voice lilting with challenge. "Go flash that Academy charm or somethin'. Get us in there quick, Stretch, 'fore I start dancin' out here in the street."

 

[Hannibal Daxos]

Tess Wyn-Tai Ryn Trask​

Hannibal arched a brow at Tess, the neon from the club door glinting off his eyes. “Flash the charm, huh?” he said, tone thoughtful, like he was genuinely considering the mechanics of it. Then his lips curved, slow and deliberate, the kind of grin that meant he’d already come up with something dangerous.

“Alright. You two, follow my lead and don’t say a word.”

Before either Ryn or Tess could question it, he started toward the bouncer, a broad individual with a face like a wall and a datapad clutched in one scarred hand. The line of patrons parted reluctantly as Hannibal strode up, posture squared with the same confidence he’d seen officers use when they wanted doors to open.

“Evening.” Hannibal began, tone crisp but warm. “Hannibal Daxos, We’re celebrating an engagement tonight.”

That got his attention. He looked up, face catching the neon glow.

“Engagement?”

“Yes.” Hannibal said smoothly, gesturing toward Ryn and Tess. “Just got the news this morning. The young couple’s first night on Coruscant, figured I’d show them a real welcome.” He let the corner of his mouth lift just enough to sell it. “Be a shame to make them wait in line on their big night.”

The bouncer’s gaze flicked between them, both Ryn and Tess. After a long pause, he snorted, clearly amused.

“Fine.” he said, tapping his datapad and stepping aside. “Congratulations, lovebirds. Don’t cause trouble.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Hannibal said with a polite nod before steering the stunned pair through the door.

The music hit like a shockwave inside lights flashing, the floor alive with motion.

Daxos was already laughing as they moved through and flashed a smile towards the two of them. “You wanted in, didn’t you?” he said, voice barely audible over the bass. “Now act like you’re on your honeymoon and start dancing.” He gave them both a teasing nudge with a big smile on his face as he looked around at the scene.

Oh, this was going to be something.

 

[Ryn Trask]

​

Location: Coruscant
Interacting with: Tess Wyn-Tai Hannibal Daxos

Oh, did Ryn play along.

The Kuati slipped his arm around Tess with the practiced ease of a born flirt, his grin already stretching wide. He even tilted his head until it rested lightly against the top of the blonde's, wearing the most exaggeratedly affectionate expression he could muster.

"She finally said yes," he announced loudly, voice full of theatrical joy, "but only after I promised her my firstborn before heading off on a long deployment. Because, really, who knows when I'll be back again?" He flashed another dazzling grin and added with a wink, "Right, honey?"

Oh, he was definitely asking to get kicked -- but the gag landed, and it earned them a laugh from the bouncer and, more importantly, entry through the door.

"Well done, Daxos!" Ryn cheered, clapping Hannibal firmly on the back as they stepped inside. He withdrew his arm from around Winnie but left a guiding hand on her shoulder, steering her close enough not to lose her in the crush of bodies. For all his antics, the Kuati wasn't blind to how wild these places could get, especially when three bright-eyed cadets walked in wearing Imperial Academy casuals. People noticed.

The music hit like a wave the moment they passed through the threshold. Bass thundered up through the floor, lights strobing in a riot of color that painted the crowd in motion. The air was thick with heat, the smell of spice, sweat, and sizzling food blending into something chaotic and alive.

Ryn's grin grew even wider.

"Alright, ladies and gents," he declared, his voice half-lost to the pulse of sound despite the order to go dancing, "to the bar!"

Cobalt blue eyes scanned the shifting sea of light and movement, already locking on the neon glow of the counter ahead. Trouble or not, the night was young and Ryn Trask was most definitely in his element.

 

[Tess Wyn-Tai]

Location: Seedy Underground Club - Bar/Dance Floor
Tags: Hannibal Daxos | Ryn Trask

The word "engagement" hung in the air, landing like a punch. Tess's nostrils flared, her head snapping up. Engaged? To Ryn? She'd sooner marry a Hutt. Disbelief etched itself onto her face, quickly followed by a flush. The bouncer's gaze lingered, and she quickly averted her eyes, trying to look anywhere but at him. She'd expected smooth words, maybe a bribe; not parading as a blushing fiancée.

She bit her tongue, keeping quiet. Her shoulders tensed as they stepped through the doors. Inside, the pounding bass swallowed any protest she might've made. Heat and color assaulted her senses: blinding strobes, a crush of bodies, air so thick it was hard to breathe.

When Ryn's arm snaked around her again, she jerked away, swatting at him with a glare that was half threat, half pure embarrassment. By the time they reached the bar, her irritation had melted into mischief. The place was a solid wall of bodies, a storm of elbows and flashing lights, the music vibrating right through the metal floor.

Tess spotted an opening. She slipped through it like a shadow, weaving past the crowd with the agility of a Sacorrian farmhand. She waved, shouted, did everything she could to catch the bartender's eye. Nothing.

So she improvised.

The moment the bartender turned to grab a tray, Tess darted a hand over the counter. She snagged three bottles of beer. A grin spread across her face, adrenaline surging as she squeezed back through the crowd.

"Mission accomplished!" she shouted over the music, handing a bottle to each of them before popping open her own.

One sip later, her grin widened. The beat took hold, wild and irresistible. "Alright," she hollered, voice bright with laughter, "I've waited long enough!"

Before either of them could react, Tess dashed toward the dance floor. She launched herself into the music, dancing with a wild, unrestrained freedom. Her hair whipped loose, her boots scuffed the flashing tiles. She spun with a reckless joy, ignoring any rhythm, caring only about the feeling itself.

Her movements felt out of place in Coruscant's sleek nightlife. This was the dance of a girl who had once raced the wind across open fields; quick, spirited, and fiercely alive.

 

[Hannibal Daxos]

Tess Wyn-Tai Ryn Trask​

Hannibal laughed under his breath as Ryn clapped him on the back, half from the impact and half from disbelief that his ridiculous lie had actually worked. "You doubted me." he said over his shoulder, but his voice was nearly swallowed by the music.

The place was alive pulsing lights, holograms flickering along the walls, the kind of bass that hit your chest hard enough to rearrange your heartbeat. The crowd moved as one restless current, a mix of locals, travelers, and drifters, all caught in the gravity of the sound. Hannibal could feel the heat rise the second they stepped in, the air heavy with spice and adrenaline.

He stayed close to Tess and Ryn, and then Ryn directed them towards the bar. But Tess was off before any of them could say anything else and she soon returned with beers for them all. Hannibal reached for his, he took a swig. The stuff wasn't so bad and it burned just enough to feel earned.

Then the lights shifted, and he caught sight of her again. Tess had vanished into the pulse of the dance floor, swallowed by the crowd until she wasn't. She stood out immediately. Where everyone else moved in neat rhythm to the bass, Tess didn't move with it, she moved against it. Spinning, laughing, her boots hitting the floor like percussion. There was nothing calculated about it. No performance, no awareness of who was watching.

And people were watching. Hannibal could see heads turn, the curious stares, the small smiles spreading through the dancers near her. The farm girl had just stolen the spotlight from a thousand credits' worth of lightshow.

"Your up Ryn...." Hannibal said with a laugh as he snatched the beer from his hand and gave him a gentle push out towards her. Hannibal took another drink, eyes still on the dance floor. He let the rhythm pull at him too, not enough to join, not yet. He had lived on Coruscant his whole life, and since he left home, he was having fun.

 

[Ryn Trask]

​

Location: Da Club
Interacting with: Hannibal Daxos Tess Wyn-Tai

Oh boy did Ryn laugh, with his head thrown back as the sound tore through the haze of bass and neon.

Tess, his dear reluctant 'fiancée,' had gone from mortified to magnificent in record time. Out there on the flashing tiles, the Sacorrian blonde was tearing it up like she had just been possessed by the ghost of a Corellian cantina dancer. Her hair flew, her boots stomped, and her grin could have powered half the club.

Ryn whooped, loud enough to make a few patrons jump.

"You go, Winnie! Get you some!" he hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify the cheer. The grin that followed split wide across his freckled face, the kind that lit up his whole expression. He took a long swig of the pilfered beer, winced slightly, and made a face.

"Ehh, not the best, but it'll do."

The crowd around them was a blur of light and motion, and for once, Ryn just let himself take it in, the music vibrating through the floor, Tess spinning like she owned the stars, and Daxos beside him looking equal parts amused and exasperated. If these two could survive his antics without running for the nearest airlock, maybe this whole academy friendship thing would actually stick.

With that, the Kuati leaned toward Hannibal, smirk creeping back into place.

"Come now, Hani, you really think I'd go out there and steal Winnie's thunder? You crazy?"

A hand gestured dramatically toward Tess, who was now throwing her arms up like a champion of bad decisions.

"You see that? That's art in motion. You never, ever one-up the girl who's out there having the time of her life." He took another sip, then added with a conspiratorial grin, "Gotta give her fifteen minutes of fame first. Then I'll come in and show her who's wearing the real dancing shoes."

 

[Tess Wyn-Tai]

Location: In the clurb
Tags: Hannibal Daxos | Ryn Trask

Tess was lost in the pulse. The floor shook beneath her boots, lights flashing like lightning in time with the beat. Sweat slicked her skin and tangled her hair, but she didn't care. She was flying.

When she finally spotted Ryn and Hannibal pushing through the crowd, her grin broke wide, brilliant and wild. She whooped, spinning toward them, bouncing in time with the rhythm; all reckless joy and zero coordination.

She didn't see the wall of scales until she hit it.

The impact knocked her back a step, her laughter cutting short. The Trandoshan was massive and impossible to miss. It reeled slightly, its yellow eyes narrowing down at her. Male? Female? Didn't matter. The look it gave her was pure murder.

Tess froze. Her chest heaved, breath hot in her throat. "Uh, hey there, big guy," she started, holding up her hands. The music swallowed her words.

The shove came first, hard enough to send her stumbling back. Reflex kicked in before thought. She shoved right back, flashing a grin that was half-joke, half-dare.

Then claws closed around her collar. Her boots left the floor. The Trandoshan lifted her like she weighed nothing at all.

Her bravado cracked wide open. "Honey!" she yelped, voice pitching up as she twisted in its grip. "HONEY!"

The crowd's rhythm didn't miss a beat. But hers stopped dead.

 

[Hannibal Daxos]

Tess Wyn-Tai Ryn Trask
​

Hannibal had that slow incredulous grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He swirled what was left in the bottle, watching the amber catch the light before taking another drink.

"Steal her thunder?" he echoed, shaking his head with mock disbelief. "Mate, You're like the encore nobody asked for but everyone secretly loves." He gave him a playful pat on his shoulder.

He glanced toward Tess, who was now mid-spin, hair and laughter everywhere. The kind of chaos that made the whole room warmer.

"Though I'll give you this." Hannibal added, leaning forward on his elbows, tone lowering just enough to sound conspiratorial. "If you're planning to 'show her who's wearing the real dancing shoes,' you better pray those boots of yours remember how to move. Last I looked, she's clearly outshining all of us."

Daxos then saw it happen in fragments strobe flashes, the split-second blur of motion, Tess's grin vanishing behind a wall of scales.

At first, he thought she was just throwing herself into another one of her chaos-fueled spins. Then the lights hit just right, and he caught the glint of claws.

The drink was gone before he realized he'd dropped it.

"Stars above..."

He was already moving. Elbows cut through the crowd, his height giving him just enough of a view to track her struggling form as the Trandoshan hoisted her up like a doll. By the time Hannibal reached them, his expression had dropped all trace of humor. That easy grin was gone what replaced it was the kind of look that turned soldiers silent and gamblers sober.

He didn't bark a warning. He didn't posture. He just stepped in close enough for the Trandoshan to feel the threat radiating off him like a live wire.

"Put. Her. Down."

The words weren't shouted; they didn't need to be. They were slow, calm, the kind of calm that promised violence.

The Trandoshan's eyes flicked toward him, its nostrils flaring, testing whether he was bluffing. Hannibal didn't blink... His hand slipped subtly toward his back, as if a weapon was there, there wasn't one but the creature didn't know that. If he called his bluff, his next reaction was to punch it right in its face. He wondered how well that would turn out.

"Last chance, scaly..." he said, voice low, steady. "You let her go… or I make you."