A brilliant fire


Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers
The undercity of Sleheyron stank of rust and old secrets.
Valery moved quietly through the narrow corridor, each footstep absorbed by the grime-coated floor beneath her boots. Overhead, cables dangled like forgotten vines, and somewhere far off, a pipe hissed as steam escaped into the space below. This place was buried beneath the city — uncharted, unwanted — exactly the kind of place someone would try to hide something dangerous.
She stopped just before a corroded door, its surface etched faintly with a symbol most wouldn't recognize. But Valery did.
"It's here," she said, her voice low but certain. "Subtle, but it's bleeding into the Force. You feel it?"
She turned slightly to glance back at the younger Jedi following in her footsteps. Their first mission together like this — not patrol, not diplomacy — but Shadow work. The quiet war fought in the shadows — the kind that didn't make holoreels or victory speeches.
"These relics don't shout. They whisper. Just enough to get into your head if you let them." Her gaze lingered for a moment longer, sharp but not unkind. "Rule number one: don't touch anything unless I say it's safe. I don't care if it glows, hums, or begs you in your mother's voice. These things corrupt slowly, and they don't always look like monsters." She faced the door again and reached out, pressing her palm against the cold metal. It gave with a reluctant groan, hinges protesting as it opened inward into pitch darkness.
Valery didn't reach for her lightsaber — not yet.
"Stay close," she murmured. "Let's see what they didn't want found."
And with that, she stepped into the dark.