Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Rebel Rebel



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TAGS: Lyra Ventor Lyra Ventor
"Oh he does that for everyone, trust me." Jonyna chuckles. "Don't take it personally."

Jonyna led them back to the hallway, then up another ladder, only to find another hallway. Behind the ladder, a med-bay that seemed to have another droid idly working on organizing a shelf.

"Hey Sicko, gonna be closing the airlock. Heads up." She casually waved to the bot, who seemed to wave back.

"Understood! Enjoy your flight!" The bot waved back, as Jonyna led them towards a much larger door on the other side of the hall, having to press a button to open it. The door lurched open, to reveal a rather extensive cargo bay. In it, a personal walker, some speeder bikes, and most importantly, a pair of X-wings sitting in dock.

"Say hello to the LionX, the best starfighter in the rebel fleet. You wanna take one for a spin? The left one is mine."

 
Lyra stepped through the threshold after Jonyna, but the sight waiting on the other side stopped her in her tracks.

Two sleek starfighters dominated the cargo bay—sharp-lined, predatory silhouettes resting in their cradles like sleeping hunting birds. Not museum pieces. Not rusted relics. These were modernized war machines, all elegant angles and reinforced plating, the unmistakable X-foils folded neatly against their hulls. The one on the left gleamed just slightly more, a subtle mark of recent use—or pride.

Her breath caught, just once.

"...that's a LionX."

She hadn't meant to say it aloud, but the words slipped out anyway, quiet with the kind of awe she usually reserved for ships she couldn't afford and shouldn't touch. She stepped forward slowly, boots clicking softly on the cargo bay floor, her eyes tracing every line of the starfighter—sleeker fuselage than the old T-65s, elongated engines, newer stabilizers, modern cannons, and—Stars above, the cockpit glass alone cost more than her ship.

She exhaled through her nose, almost a laugh, almost disbelief.

"You're kidding," she said finally, glancing sidelong at Jonyna. "This thing's worth more than…actually, I don't even wanna guess. My bank account will start crying."

But even as she joked, her fingers were already brushing the edge of the hull. There was something addictive about the feel of it—smooth alloy warmed by the bay's lights, the faint hum of systems on standby, that familiar pilot's tingle in her palms that whispered yes, you want this.

Jonyna had asked if she wanted to take one for a spin.

Her first instinct was to say no. This wasn't just a fighter. This was a high-performance, Alliance-grade starfighter that could outrun half the Outer Rim and outmaneuver the rest. This was the kind of ship real pilots had trained for years to master.

But her pulse told the truth before her mouth did.

"…yeah," she said quietly, hand resting flat against the fuselage now, the understatement almost laughable. "Stars, yeah, I wanna fly one."

She turned back to Jonyna, expression caught somewhere between awe, mischief, and the stubborn refusal to show just how excited she actually was. "But let's be clear," she added, dry but unable to hide the spark in her eyes, "if I crash this thing into a moon, I'm running. You're not getting a single credit out of me."

She stepped toward the fighter fully now, fingertips trailing along the LionX's wing as she circled toward the cockpit. "And just so we're also clear? If I fall in love with it…" A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. "…that's on you." She reached the ladder to climb up into the cockpit and looked back once.

"Show me how to start her up."

Jonyna Si Jonyna Si
 


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TAGS: Lyra Ventor Lyra Ventor
"Let's make that clear then." Jonyna walked up to the fighter, pulling the rolling ladder up to the cockpit. "I'm gifting you this. Courtesy of the CEO of the company. "

With that, Jonyna climbed the ladder, and pushed a button on the side, cracking the cockpit. As she climbed in, her nature as a jedi showed. She knew, innately, how to start it up. A few switches flipped, a button or two pressed, before finally she switched the master power switch, and the engines roared to life. She smiled, then hopped out.

"Alright kid. You get that how you want it, I'm gonna go prep the airlocks."

Jonyna left Lyra as she walked over to the door they had came in, grabbing a helmet and putting it on, before beginning to play with a control panel on the far wall.

 
Lyra froze halfway up the ladder, fingers curled around the rail as Jonyna spoke. It took a second—an actual, full second—for the meaning of the words to hit her. And when they did, her heart tripped over itself so hard she nearly missed the next rung entirely.

"G–giving this…to me?"

The stutter slipped out before she could stop it, soft and breathless, as if her brain refused to process that sentence without malfunctioning first. She blinked at the X-wing—her X-wing, apparently—then back at Jonyna, then at the X-wing again, like it might vanish if she didn't confirm its existence from three angles.

The cockpit cracked open with a hiss, the glow of the instruments spilling out like warm starlight, and Lyra's stomach turned itself inside out. Watching Jonyna bring the ship to life only made it worse—the sparks of envy, awe, disbelief, and adrenaline all tangling together in her chest until she couldn't tell one emotion from the next. The roar of the engines felt like it vibrated through her bones.

She swallowed hard, fingers tightening reflexively around the ladder rail.

"You're…gifting it?"

Her voice came out softer this time—almost reverent, like she was afraid to breathe too loudly and break the moment. The kind of awe that made her feel like she was sixteen again, staring at a ship she wasn't supposed to touch, wanting to fly it more than she wanted anything in the galaxy.

Jonyna hopped out and brushed it off as if it were nothing. It was very much not nothing.

Lyra drew in a shaky breath, letting her palm rest against the edge of the cockpit. The metal was warm from the engine cycle, humming gently under her fingertips. The ship felt alive. Waiting. Ready.

"…Stars," she whispered under her breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear, "I… don't even know what to say."

She didn't try to stop Jonyna when she walked away—didn't trust her voice not to crack all over again. Instead, she let herself take one step higher and lean over the edge of the cockpit, eyes tracing every inch of the controls with a wonder she couldn't contain.

A real fighter. A LionX. Given to her.

Her pulse fluttered wildly, a dizzy, breathless thrill warming her from the inside out.

"Okay…" she murmured to herself as Jonyna prepped the airlocks in the distance, "Okay, Lyra. Don't pass out. You can handle this. You can fly this."

She absolutely could. She just needed a minute, so her heart stopped trying to climb out of her chest.

Jonyna Si Jonyna Si
 


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TAGS: Lyra Ventor Lyra Ventor
"Thank you would be a good start." Jonyna snorted, as she poked at the console. The sound of hissing air marked the sealing of the door to the rest of the ship, as Jonyna idly walked over to the other X-wing in the hanger, climbing in.

The X-wing's cockpit closed automatically. Lyra was now beyond the point of no return. Jonyna sealed her own, and suddenly, the roof to the hanger bay hissed as well. The air was funneled out of the hanger bay, before finally, the roof opened.

They were in space already, so the gravity simply turned off, and Jonyna allowed her fighter to lift off the ground. Her engines revved, allowing her to slowly take off and float into space.

<Don't psyche yourself out. You're a pilot, right?> Jonyna could be heard over the comms. <We're just gonna do a test flight. I'm not gonna expect you to dogfight me.>

 
Lyra stared after Jonyna for a heartbeat too long, still processing the words giving this to you and the fact that she was now sitting in the cockpit of a starfighter worth more than the Starling's entire hull.

Then the canopy sealed with a soft hiss, enclosing her in a bubble of transparisteel and adrenaline.

"Right—yeah. Thank you," she muttered belatedly, though Jonyna was already climbing into her own fighter.
Maker above, she really needed to get better at the gratitude part before people stopped giving her expensive things.

The deck shifted beneath her boots as gravity disengaged. The soft hum of the fighter's repulsors vibrated through the seat as the LionX rose, weightless, ready, almost… expectant. The controls glowed in soft blues and whites around her, familiar in design yet sharper, hungrier than any civilian console she'd ever flown.

Then Jonyna's voice crackled through the comms, steady and amused.

<Don't psyche yourself out. You're a pilot, right?>

Lyra exhaled slowly — not to calm down, but to steady the very real thrill rising up her spine.

"I'm a pilot," she replied, fingers tightening around the throttles as the hangar roof opened into star-studded black.
"Just… not usually of things that cost more than my entire life savings."

The fighter drifted free, her touch light, deliberate. Good handling. Responsive. Clean. Her heart kicked.

Jonyna's reassurance made her huff a tiny laugh.

"Good," Lyra said, eyes narrowing with focus as stars unfolded around her. "Because I'm not dogfighting you on my first flight. I'd rather not explode the gift I just got."

She nudged the throttle. The fighter eased forward like a predator stretching awake.

Her pulse climbed with it.

"Alright, Reaper-Three," she said into the comms, a spark of confidence sliding into her voice despite the flutter in her chest.
"Test flight, no fancy tricks. Lead the way."

But stars, was she ready to see what this thing could do?

Jonyna Si Jonyna Si
 


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TAGS: Lyra Ventor Lyra Ventor
All things considered, Jonyna wasn't the best pilot in the world either. She knew that. As she led them out of the Reaper, Jonyna knew better than to try any tricks.

Ryloth from above was beautiful though. The LionX glided lightly away from the Reaper, leading them over the mountains below. One day, she'd have to take Lyra to Cathar to show her the open savannah of the southern hemisphere. Endless grasslands that made a pilot feel like they went on forever.

For now, she was just giving Lyra a chance to get her bearings.

<Reaper Three to Two. How you feelin' in your new starfighter?>

 
Lyra eased the LionX through a shallow banking turn, letting the controls settle into her hands the way a new pair of gloves needed a moment to shape to the wearer. Stars, this thing handled differently than anything she'd ever flown — tighter, sharper, eager in a way civilian ships just weren't. Even the hum of the engines felt alive, a low vibration that traveled straight through the cockpit into her ribs.

Her breath left her in a slow, controlled exhale as she followed Jonyna's lead, letting the fighter arc out over the edge of Ryloth's canyon ridges. The surface glowed amber beneath them, heat rising in shimmering waves. Beautiful. Terrifying. Exactly the kind of sky she'd dreamed of flying in as a kid.

She clicked the comms.

<"Reaper Two copies.">
A small, stunned laugh escaped before she could stop it.
<"…Honestly? I feel like I just grew a second heart.">

She tightened her hands on the controls, rolling the craft just a fraction more — nothing fancy, just enough to feel the responsiveness.

<"This thing moves like it's reading my thoughts.">

A pause, her voice softening with awe she couldn't hide:

<"…I've never flown anything that listens this closely.">

Another beat.

<"Give me a minute to stop shaking from how good this feels, and then you can show me what she can really do.">

Jonyna Si Jonyna Si
 


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TAGS: Lyra Ventor Lyra Ventor
<Just breathe, trust me. I learned that years ago. Show me what your mom taught you. You got the talent, yeah? Show off, kid.>

Jonyna's movements in her own LionX were smooth, practiced. While she was no Han Solo, she knew the LionX like the back of her hand. She had been the test pilot, and the ultimate target audience for something like this.

She was no pilot, but she was a rebel. One of the first owners of the original X-wing. One of the first to see it in combat, and one of the first to rely on it.

She wondered how a real pilot would feel for it.

 
Lyra adjusted her grip on the controls, letting her fingers settle lightly over the interface instead of clamping down on it like her nerves wanted. Jonyna's voice crackled through the comms, calm, almost lazy in its confidence.

Just breathe, trust me…Show me what your mom taught you.

Lyra exhaled slowly, letting the sound of it fill her helmet before the silence of space swallowed it. Her heartbeat steadied, aligning with the hum of the engines as if the fighter were syncing with her instead of the other way around.

"Alright," she murmured, more to herself than to Jonyna. "Okay. Just flying. That's all this is."

But when she wrapped her hands around the LionX's yoke, something shifted—a click, an almost electric familiarity, like slipping into a cockpit she had known in another life.

She rolled the fighter gently, testing its responsiveness, balance, and thrust. It wasn't the Starling—it didn't need coaxing or charm. It wanted to run. The ship practically vibrated with impatience.

Something like a laugh slipped from her, soft and surprised.

"Maker…she's fast."

A subtle tilt of her wrist, and the LionX slid into a tight banking arc along the edge of Ryloth's atmosphere, the planet curving beneath her in sweeping bands of orange and violet. The fighter moved like it was predicting her—or maybe it was responding to her instincts the way only the best ships ever did.

"Alright, Reaper Three," she said, her voice steadier now, more like the pilot she was on the Starling but sharper—brighter. "I'll show off."

She opened the throttle just a fraction, enough to feel the LionX surge forward beneath her.

Enough for Jonyna to feel what she'd just unleashed.

"You wanted to see what my mom taught me?"

She dipped the nose, let the fighter skim low over the mountain ridges, then shot upward in a smooth, spiraling climb that tightened at the top like a twist of silk.

"Watch closely."

Jonyna Si Jonyna Si
 


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TAGS: Lyra Ventor Lyra Ventor
Jonyna watched from above, dipping down to keep up, but not bothering with the fancy tricks that Lyra was going for. No, Jonyna's eyes were watching a fresh recruit show what they already knew. She would hand Lyra over to Kessari Vorn Kessari Vorn soon.

This is what the Rebellion needed. Fresh eyes, fresh fighters, and talents other places in the galaxy would beg for.

<Kick open the throttle kid, show me how fast she can go!>

 
Lyra's hands tightened around the X-wing's control yoke, the unfamiliar weight of it already starting to feel right beneath her fingers. Different from the Starling—heavier, more responsive in some ways, less forgiving in others—but the language of flight was the same. Engines, balance, intention. She could feel where the fighter wanted to go, how much it would tolerate before biting back.

A breath in. A breath out. "Alright," she murmured, more to herself than to Jonyna, eyes flicking across the instruments. "Let's see what you've got."

She nudged the throttle forward first, just enough to feel the X-wing's response—the engines answering with a smooth, eager growl—then pushed harder, letting the fighter stretch its legs. The stars elongated at the edges of her vision as she rolled into a shallow climb, keeping the acceleration clean, controlled. No wild tricks. No showing off just yet.

"She's got bite," she said over comms, a note of surprised approval slipping into her voice despite herself. "Different from my ship. Tighter. Feels like she wants to be pushed."

Another smooth increase of power, the X-wing surging forward as Lyra adjusted her posture instinctively, compensating without thinking. The fighter didn't fight her—it answered.

She glanced toward Jonyna's LionX, a quick, sharp grin tugging at her mouth.

"You said kick it, not break it," she added lightly. "I'm just warming her up."

Then she leaned into the throttle again—not reckless, not timid—letting the X-wing show exactly how fast it could go when flown by someone who actually listened to it.

Jonyna Si Jonyna Si
 


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TAGS: Lyra Ventor Lyra Ventor
All Jonyna could see was a bit of deja vu. Lyra was the spitting image of the girl she had once known as her rebel pilot, though minus a lot of the sharper edges.

She wondered if Lyra would develop those too, naturally. A sharp wit, a natural slang, and a thirst for adrenaline.

One thing was for sure, she knew her way around an X-wing. Jonyna watched with awe in her eyes. She could never be as naturally gifted with tech like that.

This one would be the rebellion's ace, she was sure.

<She was designed for it. You'll need it when someone is shooting at you. Do me a favor and get a feel for the guns as well. Right now, you're in flight mode. Give me a burst with the chainlaser, you'll need it for when you do fire support.>

 
Lyra's grin came fast and unguarded, the kind that only showed up when she was exactly where she belonged.

Her hands shifted over the X-wing's controls with easy familiarity, not rushing, not fumbling—just making space for one more system to come online. The fighter responded immediately, power redistributing as the weapons console slid into her peripheral display.

<"Yeah…figured you were going to say that.">

She thumbed the selector, the HUD subtly reconfiguring as flight mode bled into combat readiness. Power bled off the engines just enough to feed the guns, the whine of the capacitors rising under the hull like a held breath.

<"Alright. Chainlaser coming up. I'm keeping it short—don't want to cook your sensors.">

Her finger squeezed the trigger. The X-wing barked, a controlled burst of coherent fire lancing out into open space. Not wild. Not sprayed. Tight, disciplined—just enough to feel the recoil through the frame and understand how the ship wanted to push back against it. She let off, compensating automatically, rolling the nose back to level without even thinking.

<"…Okay."> There was a note of quiet satisfaction in her voice now. <"Yeah. I see why you like this setup. She kicks, but it's honest. You know exactly what she's doing the second you pull."> Lyra flexed her fingers once, re-centering on the stick, eyes bright.

<"Flight mode's great for getting out alive. This? This is for making sure someone else doesn't get the chance to follow."> She glanced at the targeting reticle, already itching to push it harder. <"Whenever you're ready, Jonyna—I'm game to see what else she can do.">

Jonyna Si Jonyna Si
 

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