Private Round and round we go.

[Rheyla Tann]

Steam poured from vented walls and broken ducts, coiling into the air like the whole city was exhaling frustration. Neon signs blinked overhead in no consistent rhythm, casting pale pink and acid green across puddles that definitely weren’t just water. Somewhere nearby, a droid shorted out and collapsed face-first into a cart of grilled meat skewers. No one looked twice.

Rheyla, for once in a long time, didn’t wear her usual cloth wrap over her head or lekku. Instead, she’d pulled on something different—a merged headpiece of metal and fabric, snug against her brow and temples. Not for any particular reason. Just to try something new.

A matte-finished metal plate curved over her forehead, shaped into a subtle V that rose into a pointed crest. At its centre, a blue gemstone caught the flicker of Denon’s neon haze—muted but unmistakable. Reinforced ear-cone covers framed each side, integrated into a dark wrap of cloth that hugged the crown of her head before loosening behind her lekku, letting them fall free for once. The fabric was heavy enough to block sand or sparks, but soft enough not to chafe.

She didn’t feel exposed, exactly, but it was strange not having the usual weight of cloth around her lekku. The old scars along their length were more visible now, faint blaster grazes that told more truth than she'd usually let show.

Still. Change didn’t kill anyone. Usually.

Having taken the tram from the spaceport, the soft, blue-skinned Twi'lek stepped off with the kind of walk that said, 'Don't bother me unless you’re paying.' Her boots hit ferrocrete and didn’t stop—if you stood still too long on Denon, the city noticed. And Denon didn’t do you any favours.

She weaved through the crowd, past a woman shouting about half-priced spice rolls, past a boy trying to sell fake Mandalorian relics made of painted plastoid, past a bounty board terminal with a screen so cracked it looked like a spiderweb. Half the names on it were probably dead already.

The smell hit next. Gods, the smell. Spice oil, fried stimroot, meat smoke, and ozone. Whatever Ace had promised her—dinner, was it?—he’d better not mean some recycled protein cube and a cup of rehydrated disappointment. If she was risking being seen this close to a Core-world dock, she wanted actual food. A flickering holosign buzzed to life as she passed beneath it, advertising some long-closed noodle stand in six languages. She didn’t slow down. The sooner she was through this sector, the better.

After a good half an hour of making her way through the crowded streets, Rheyla found herself high above the normal streets with air smelling like it hadn't gone through thirteen different filters of smoke, spice and regret.

Rheyla stood by a railing after taking a turbolift, having shared the cramped pace with a Devaronian. She swore she had seen the man before somewhere, but she just couldn't for the life of her remember where. Leaning against the railing, arms crossed, brow furrowed, she tried to remember where she had seen the Devaronian before.

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Denon

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

It had been a while since Acier had last seen Denon. Since he was chased off world by bounty hunters, to be exact. Like Bonadan, Denon hadn't changed much in the time he'd been gone. Now, he was back, but not for the typical reason Ace had when coming to a planet like this. It wasn't to lay low, to find work, to look for information. He was here... to buy Rheyla Tann dinner.

Platonically, of course. He'd owed her for helping him deal with Tessk back on Bonadan. Well, buying her dinner was her idea actually - payment for her 'services'. Honestly, for how chaotic things went: MagnaGuards, Rheyla getting shot with a bowcaster, Tessk's... death. Paying for dinner was nothing compared to that.

Scraping some credits together, Ace had enough to book them a place at this Upper Level spot. That solved one problem. The other? He was running late, he'd been caught up doing maintenance on the Flickerfox. That did solve another problem, but created the one he was currently in.

Lightly and casually, just enough to not build up a sweat, he jogged his way through the crowd of Denon's citizens. Gently brushing past the people in his way. After a short while, he spotted the Twi'lek's frame - blue and leaning against a railing.

His pace slowed as he drew near, eventually becoming a quickened walk. If she spotted him, he would offer her a lazy wave and if not, he'd remain quiet. Once he'd pulled up next to her, he finally spoke.

"Hey. My bad for the wait..." Ace paused.

Raising an eyebrow, he noticed she wasn't wearing her usual headscarf but instead it was some sort of metallic headpiece. Protection maybe? It made sense, in her line of work she'd need all the protection she could get.

"That's new." he proclaimed "This a special occasion or are you trying something new?"

It wasn't teasing or an attempt to be smart, his tone carried curiosity. Ace was truly interested in the methodology, or story, behind the change.

Whether Rheyla decided to answer or not, Ace followed up on his question. Crossing his arms, Ace pointed his thumb over his shoulder but his gaze remained on Rheyla.

"Anyway, place we're going's that way."

His thumb pointed in the direction of a narrow lift alcove tucked between two glowing storefronts. Just above it, a sleek gold sign flickered in vertical Aurebesh: The Emberlight. It wasn't flashy, but wasn't seedy either. And it was somewhere he could afford.

"The Emberlight." he explained as they started walking "Top floor spot, Core-fusion menu, half-decent views. Just... don't order anything that glows."

Then he stepped ahead, weaving toward the lift, not looking back, but not too far ahead either.

Rheyla Tann​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

Rheyla didn’t notice him until he was already approaching, boots just loud enough to catch her attention over the hum of Denon’s noise. She glanced sideways, caught the familiar lean and silver hair, and exhaled softly through her nose. Not annoyed. Just acknowledging him.

When he finally pulled up beside her, she didn’t look at him immediately, just letting her gaze linger on the skyline a moment longer, then said, “You made it. I was starting to think you ghosted me for someone green.” The edge in her voice was faint, more teasing amusement than any real bite. Just enough to let him know she’d noticed the wait—without making it a thing.

When he mentioned the headpiece, her expression shifted—subtly. Not embarrassed. Just thoughtful. She glanced down the length of her lekku, now fully exposed, then back up at him with a nonchalant shrug.

“Just trying something new,” she said. “Didn’t feel like being anonymous today. Figured I’d let Denon admire the blaster scars.”

It wasn’t defensive, but there was steel under the sarcasm. Maybe more honesty than usual.

When Ace pointed out the lift and name-dropped The Emberlight, Rheyla followed his thumb with her gaze, taking in the sleek vertical Aurebesh signage and narrow alcove between glowing storefronts.

She let out a slow breath through her nose.

“Well,” she muttered, stepping off the railing, “at least it doesn’t smell like it serves protein paste.”

A beat passed.

“If there’s music, I’m not dancing.” She fell into step beside him, hands in her pockets, headpiece catching a glint of neon as she moved toward the lift.

Rheyla eyed the lift alcove as they approached, her gaze drifting up to the flickering gold signage in vertical Aurebesh.

The Emberlight.

She made a soft sound in her throat. Not quite approval. Not quite the opposite.

“Sounds like the kind of place where someone tries to sell you glitterstim in the bathroom,” she murmured.

Still, she followed him without hesitation, falling into step just behind. The lift doors hissed open on approach, washing them both in a pale amber glow from within—sleek walls, clean plating, the kind of place that tried very hard to seem more expensive than it probably was.

She stepped in beside him and leaned against the rail, arms folded, lekku gently brushing her back as the doors sealed them inside.

“A Core-fusion menu, huh?” Her brow arched slightly. “You’re not about to try and impress me with squid blossoms over braised nerf medallions, are you?”

A beat.

Her eyes glanced at Acier, "since when did you have this kind of credit?“ It was a genuine question as the turbolift took them up. The turbolift doors slid open with a quiet chime and a breath of recycled, perfumed air. Rheyla stepped out first, her boots thudding softly against matte-black tile. It probably wasn’t real. Just made to look expensive and feel heavier than it was.

The Emberlight wasn’t flashy. It didn’t need to be.

Soft gold lighting traced the edges of dark, polished walls, casting everything in a gentle glow that somehow managed to feel both warm and clinical. The ceiling was high, arched slightly, with bronze-toned panelling that shimmered faintly like heatwaves. A curved wall of tinted transparisteel overlooked Denon’s endless skyline, the view broken only by the occasional hovercar drifting by like a lazy firefly.

Tables were spaced deliberately apart, just enough to suggest privacy without promising it. Some booths were recessed into alcoves, lit by hanging fixtures that glowed like molten glass. Others hugged the main floor, accompanied by strange, minimalist sculpture centrepieces that probably had names like “Galactic Dissonance” or “The Price of Peace.”

A hostess droid glided over without a word, scanned Ace, then gave a polite mechanical nod and gestured toward one of the side booths. No crowd. No wait.

Rheyla trailed after it, expression unreadable as she took everything in.

“Definitely not a food cart,” she murmured to Ace with a smirk. “Bonus points for that, Sparkleboy.”

Rheyla couldn't even remember the last time she ate proper food prepared by actual chefs as she slid into the booth with practised ease, her back to the wall by instinct, one arm draped loosely over the seat edge. Her eyes scanned the room again before settling on the holographic menus lighting up before them both. Fancy.

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Denon

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

“If there’s music, I’m not dancing.”

Ace didn't even look at her when he replied, voice dry as ever. "Wasn't planning on it."

He kept walking, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, weaving through the thinning crowd as the city noise dulled behind them. The upper level was quieter, cleaner, less shouting, more murmurs, the kind of place that probably charged extra just to sit down.

"You know," he added after a moment "If this place doesn't live up to the name, we can skip out."

The turbolift doors parted, and they stepped inside. He leaned back against the rail, glancing at her sidelong as the doors hissed shut. That headpiece still caught his eye. Not in a bad way. It was just… different.

When Rheyla brought up the Core-fusion menu, his brow rose slightly. "You say that like I've ever seen a squid blossom, you seen where I grew up?" he replied. He tilted his head a little. "Honestly, I picked this place 'cause the holos didn't show anything on fire or under construction. That's about where my standards are these days."

Then came the question about credits. The real one. He didn't deflect, at least not fully.

"Sold off some scrap, did a little side work, and maybe haggled the reservation under a fake name." He gave her a sideways glance. "The name was 'Thassal Rann.' Sound fancy enough?"

The chime of the lift doors saved him from having to admit how much of his savings he'd blown on this one dinner. Rheyla stepped out first, and Ace followed behind, posture shifting subtly, less slouched now, more alert. This place was a far cry from the greasy diners and secondhand booths he was used to. He caught his own reflection in the sheen of the black tile and resisted the urge to fix his hair.

The ambiance didn't help either. Gold lighting. Fancy walls. Sculptures that made him feel like someone was about to ask him what his favorite opera was.

As they were led to the booth, he slid into the seat across from Rheyla with casual ease, but his eyes moved everywhere. Scanning exits, glancing at the kitchen doors, clocking the spacing between tables. It was instinct. One that'd probably never go away.

When she commented on the place not being a food cart, he looked across at her with a small smirk that almost looked smug.

"Told you I'd cover dinner." he said. "Didn't say it'd be back alley noodles in a broken container. Besides... figured I'd treat you after taking a bowcaster to the face."

Then his gaze lingered on her a moment. Not too long. Just enough to register the way she leaned back into the seat, relaxed but aware, her arm hooked over the edge like she owned the place. Maybe not this exact restaurant. But the moment. The night. Her own space.

His tone shiftied just a little, still dry but more thoughtful "You clean up alright."

He didn't mean the headpiece. Or the scars. Or the clothes. He meant her. All of her. But he didn't explain that, he just raised his brow at the menu again, shifting the focus before it got too real.

As if right on cue to save any awkwardness, the server droid came. It glided up with a polite mechanical chime, waiting silently for their orders. Ace glanced at Rheyla, thumb tapping idly against the side of his menu.

"So, what're you in the mood for?"

His jaw clenched slightly, praying she didn't order anything too expensive.

Rheyla Tann ​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

The droid glided away without a sound, menus vanishing back into its chassis as it disappeared toward the kitchen. Rheyla eased back into the booth, one arm hooked over the backrest, the other curling around her glass. She let the quiet stretch for a few beats—long enough for the hum of the restaurant and the faint clink of cutlery to fill the space.

Then her eyes slid across the table, locking on him with that faint, knowing smirk.

“So… Thassal Rann, huh?” Her tone was casual, but there was a thread of amusement running through it. “I’ve met Hutts with less pretentious names. What were you going for? Mysterious aristocrat, or the kind of guy who insists on being called ‘my lord’ by the waitstaff?”

She took a slow sip, watching him over the rim of her glass through the dark fan of her lashes before setting it down again. The corner of her mouth tugged upward. “Not that it didn’t work. Had the droid practically bowing when we walked in. You almost look like you belong here.”

Her gaze lingered a fraction longer than the joke needed, just enough for the air between them to shift. Not heavy. Not serious. Just… there; then she leaned back… breaking eye contact with a faint exhale through her nose. “You know, for a fake name, this is almost impressive. Almost.” The “almost” carried the barest trace of a grin, the kind that suggested she was teasing—but not entirely denying the compliment hiding underneath.

For a heartbeat, it was just them, the muted gold light pooling over the table and the low murmur of strangers’ conversations filling the space between. The scent of spice and seared meat drifted from the kitchen, mixing with the faint tang of some overly expensive cleaning solution. Beyond the curved transparisteel, Denon’s skyline blinked and shifted in slow rhythm, speeder lights weaving lazy patterns in the dark.

It wasn’t silence, not really, but it felt like the kind of quiet neither of them was used to. No roaring engines underfoot. No comm static in their ears. No one was shouting at them or shooting at them when they didn’t. Just stillness, strange and weightless.

Rheyla let it linger for a moment longer than she meant to. Then she broke it.

“So,” she said, leaning back against the booth’s cushioned wall, “you gotten any better with that lasersword? You know...” she made a loose circling motion with her fingers, “...that whole Jedi thing?”

The smirk curved across her mouth, but it was soft around the edges, her eyes glinting with something warmer than the words suggested. The jab wasn’t meant to sting. If anything, it was curiosity wrapped in the safe armour of mockery—testing the ground without looking like she was.

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Denon

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

Ace's thoughts drifted for a moment, back to Tessk. The memory was as clear as the actual moment itself. He still wasn't doing well, and every quiet moment where he wasn't moving - it crept back in. Rheyla's voice pulled him out of it, lifting his head, he looked her with a blank expression before a semblence of emotion returned.

"Thassal Rann..." he repeated, then shrugged "It's actually a real person. Some guy the restaraunt really wanted back, just used the situation to my advantage." Ace continued, voice low.

He met her gaze again as she let that final "almost" hang in the air, and for a moment, he didn't answer. Just studied her in the golden haze of the booth. She seemed to be less guarded but still sharp, like she wasn't buried underneath layers of barbs and sarcasm.

Grinning, he asked "Are you just incapable of giving someone their props?"

The quiet that followed was the kind that Ace wasn't used to. Not to say this wasn't uncomfortable, it was just... different. Like the space between two people that had so much more to say and feel, but it was hidden beneath all their emotional defences. Even in the Force, this atmosphere was dense. Rheyla's voice eventually cut through the quiet, however. Ace snickered, sinking back into his seat comfortably.

"The "whole Jedi thing"'s an overstatement. Not trying to be one, just know myself more." Ace bit back, realizing he'd let things get a little too real with that statement "I'm working on it. Haven't lost a limb, so, progress." he added.

He looked off to the side briefly, a more thoughtful breath following the casualness of his statement. Ace took a sip from his glass, then looked at her with a lopsided grin.

"You know me. Fast learner, slow listener."

Without breaking eye contact, Ace lifted one hand off the table - palm open, fingers relaxed - and gently gestured toward her drink. It shifted, the glass didn't rattle or hover dramatically, just tilted slightly, a soft ripple forming on the surface as it slid an inch closer to her hand. It was controlled, intentional, and effortless. Ace smirked, a brow raised.

"See?"

His grin faded as he leaned back, letting the moment breathe. The light from the skyline painted warm lines across his face, and when he spoke again, his voice had lost its usual flippancy.

"…Seriously, though." he said, eyes fixed on hers now. "How've you been? Since Bonadan."

Rheyla Tann ​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

Rheyla’s brows lifted at his explanation, the corner of her mouth curving.
“So you stole dinner from a real Thassal Rann. Bold. Guess I should be expecting a furious aristocrat to storm in here and challenge you to a duel before dessert.” She almost hoped it would happen, just to watch Sparkleboy get chased around by a furious aristocrat. Well, as aristocratic as one could be on this planet.

His follow-up about her giving props earned a faint snort as she tipped her glass. “Why ruin a good working relationship with praise? You’d get cocky.” She said with a wink.

The quiet that settled after stretched longer than she meant it to. Not uncomfortable — just… new. Ace’s “Jedi” answer brought her back, and her smirk sharpened slightly.
“Haven’t lost a limb yet? Truly inspiring. Next thing you’ll tell me, you can pull a flying speeder from the air without crashing it.”

Then he moved his hand, and her drink slid closer. She watched it, not startled, but with a narrowing of her eyes that was almost… impressed.
“My hero,” she play-gasped, placing a hand dramatically over her chest. “You saved me from having to reach for my drink.” There was no real bite to her over-acted little play — just playful teasing.

She took a sip, like a feline having just claimed victory over her prey, letting the moment breathe between them. The city lights painted gold along the edge of her jaw when she looked back at him, his next question hanging heavier in the air than anything else they’d said.

Her gaze held his for a long second before she leaned back, letting the glass rest on the table.
“Since Bonadan?” she repeated quietly. “Still breathing. Still keeping the ship in the air. Ribs don’t creak every time I roll out of bed anymore.” The control was still there, but thinner now—enough for him to hear more than she usually let slip. A faint smirk tugged at her mouth, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She swirled what was left in her glass, the ice clinking softly.
“Same as you, I guess. Working on it.”

It didn’t last. The Twi’lek leaned back, eyes flicking toward her drink like she’d already said more than she meant to. She took a slow sip, then set it down again, mouth curving as if she’d already decided the next thing out of her mouth was going to be safer… or sharper.

"Speaking of working on it—tell me, have you stopped pointing that glowstick at people you actually like?"
Her tone was light, lazy even, but there was a flicker of challenge in her eyes. The kind that dared him to volley back. Safer ground, sure, but not without teeth.

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Denon

Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

"Next thing you’ll tell me, you can pull a flying speeder from the air without crashing it.”

Ace let out a light chuckle at Rheyla's joke. However, part of him did wonder that with more training and experience - if he'd be able to perform feats like that. Or more. The prospect of wielding that kind of power excited him, more than it probably should. However, Ace kept the tone light in his response.​

​

"Working on it."​

​

The Twi'lek's response to his telekinetic demonstration was unapologetically her. Teasing, sarcastic, but underneath all that... a twinge of authenticity. Rheyla was definitley in a playful mood tonight, and it helped him relax a little more.​

​

After he'd asked her how she was doing since the ordeal with Tessk, Ace was taken aback by Rheyla's response. He blinked for a moment, as the silence passed over them following her answer. He'd picked up on it instantly. The Twi'lek's typical guardedness didn't completely influence her response. There was a hint, a very small one, of vulnerability. She'd noticed too, reeling back and putting those walls back up.​

​

He didn't comment on it, not wanting to make her or the atmosphere uncomfortable. Ace merely acknowledged her with his eyes. Clearly not comfortable herself, Rheyla had switched the focus back on to him and Ace met her answer with the same off-handedness.​

​

"Not many people I actually like." another chuckle escaped him, a dry one this time "So, it's hard to say." he added, flashing her a smirk.​

​

Before the banter could go any further, a low hum and faint clink of metal announced the server droid's return. Its polished chassis caught the golden light as it glided to their table, setting down a tray of steaming appetizers between them. The scent of seared nerf and spiced root vegetables curled into the air, briefly stealing his focus.​

​

Ace leaned back, letting the warmth drift up from the plates. "Smells better than I expected." he said lightly, flicking his eyes from the food to Rheyla. "Ladies first?"​

​

From a booth a few tables over, the muffled hum of conversation suddenly sharpened into clarity, an older interspecies couple - a male Mirialan and female Zeltron - mid-argument, their voices just low enough to pretend they weren't arguing, but sharp enough to cut through the room.​

​

"I told you not to order the lumgizzards, Tava. You know what they do to your digestion—"​

"Oh, so now you're a doctor? You've had two cafs and a pastry, Fenn, you're in no position to judge."​

​

Ace blinked, glancing over briefly before looking back to Rheyla with the faintest flicker of amusement.​

​

Rheyla Tann​