Acier Moonbound
Wandering Wolf
Location: Bonadan - Vergeworks
Thick plumes of smoke rolled between the towers in slow, endless currents, bleeding into one another until the skyline blurred into a single, choking mass. Structures climbed over each other in uneven layers, some sharp and deliberate, others built on top of things that should've collapsed years ago. Light barely made it through. What did reach the lower levels came fractured - cut by durasteel, warped by haze, swallowed before it ever touched the ground.
Ace stood along a high-span walkway, looking out over it. From here, you could almost mistake it for order. Vertical lines. Moving traffic. Towers that looked like they belonged to something organized, something deliberate. That illusion didn't survive long.
His gaze lowered, to where it mattered. Movement broke apart the closer you looked. Lanes that should've flowed clean instead stalled, redirected, collapsed inward. People didn't move with purpose, they reacted. Every shift came too fast and too sharp, like no one trusted the space around them to hold for more than a second at a time.
A flash of motion caught his attention below. A stall overturned, a scrap, someone stepping in. Not to stop it, but to take something in the confusion. It escalated immediately without hesitation or awareness of consequence. Just impulse. It was almost nostalgic in a way.
Then a blaster came out, faster than it should've been. The shot cracked through the lane and the entire space broke. People scattered in every direction, bodies colliding, goods spilling across the ground. The fight fractured outward, pulling more into it instead of containing itself.
Ace watched it for half a second. Then he stepped off the ledge. The drop cut clean through the smoke, landing in the middle of it just as another shot came. His hand caught the shooter's wrist, redirected the barrel, the bolt tearing past into a support column behind him.
He didn't need to draw his blade. With a sharp turn and a shift in weight, the shooter hit the ground hard enough to stay there. The others hesitated and Ace's gaze moved between them, steady, controlled. Not anger. Not threat. Certainty.
"Walk."
They backed off. One at a time and within seconds, the space reset itself. People moving again. Faster now. Quieter. Like the moment had never existed. Ace straightened slowly, eyes already moving past them.
Everywhere he looked, it was the same pattern. Breaks in the system and gaps no one was filling. Too many people trying to take, but no one strong enough to hold. His gaze lifted again, cutting through the haze toward the towers above. The higher you looked, the cleaner it seemed. Less noise. Less chaos. That was always the lie.
Tessk had built something here. It was ugly, brutal, but it worked. Everything moved because it had somewhere to go. Someone to answer to. Ace had torn that out and left it hollow.
Now the Vergeworks was doing what it always did when left alone. Eating itself. His hand brushed against the comm at his side. The call had already been made.
Naboo. That's where Lysander had been last, playing his part in "diplomacy" with the Republic. Regardless, Lysander would come. Not out of obligation, but because of their unique bond. Mirrors, and their shared love for Fatine.
He moved with the crowd into a narrow, overlooked junction and settled there, watching the flow. Lysander would be here soon.
Lysander von Ascania
Ace stood along a high-span walkway, looking out over it. From here, you could almost mistake it for order. Vertical lines. Moving traffic. Towers that looked like they belonged to something organized, something deliberate. That illusion didn't survive long.
His gaze lowered, to where it mattered. Movement broke apart the closer you looked. Lanes that should've flowed clean instead stalled, redirected, collapsed inward. People didn't move with purpose, they reacted. Every shift came too fast and too sharp, like no one trusted the space around them to hold for more than a second at a time.
A flash of motion caught his attention below. A stall overturned, a scrap, someone stepping in. Not to stop it, but to take something in the confusion. It escalated immediately without hesitation or awareness of consequence. Just impulse. It was almost nostalgic in a way.
Then a blaster came out, faster than it should've been. The shot cracked through the lane and the entire space broke. People scattered in every direction, bodies colliding, goods spilling across the ground. The fight fractured outward, pulling more into it instead of containing itself.
Ace watched it for half a second. Then he stepped off the ledge. The drop cut clean through the smoke, landing in the middle of it just as another shot came. His hand caught the shooter's wrist, redirected the barrel, the bolt tearing past into a support column behind him.
He didn't need to draw his blade. With a sharp turn and a shift in weight, the shooter hit the ground hard enough to stay there. The others hesitated and Ace's gaze moved between them, steady, controlled. Not anger. Not threat. Certainty.
"Walk."
They backed off. One at a time and within seconds, the space reset itself. People moving again. Faster now. Quieter. Like the moment had never existed. Ace straightened slowly, eyes already moving past them.
Everywhere he looked, it was the same pattern. Breaks in the system and gaps no one was filling. Too many people trying to take, but no one strong enough to hold. His gaze lifted again, cutting through the haze toward the towers above. The higher you looked, the cleaner it seemed. Less noise. Less chaos. That was always the lie.
Tessk had built something here. It was ugly, brutal, but it worked. Everything moved because it had somewhere to go. Someone to answer to. Ace had torn that out and left it hollow.
Now the Vergeworks was doing what it always did when left alone. Eating itself. His hand brushed against the comm at his side. The call had already been made.
Naboo. That's where Lysander had been last, playing his part in "diplomacy" with the Republic. Regardless, Lysander would come. Not out of obligation, but because of their unique bond. Mirrors, and their shared love for Fatine.
He moved with the crowd into a narrow, overlooked junction and settled there, watching the flow. Lysander would be here soon.
Lysander von Ascania