Private Rust and Resolve

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Malastare

Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic

On the edge of the Malastare forests, where the refineries has gone quiet, the smell of fuel buried in the wind rolled off the tree line. Ace crouched near the half-collapsed fuel line, one hand steadying the pressure gauge as the other worked a spanner into place. The hiss finally eased, and the pipe's tremor went still. He let out a breath through his nose, glancing toward the horizon where the smoke from the nearest settlement was just beginning to rise. Another evacuation gone wrong.

A soft chirp came from behind him. Tic was perched on a crate, tilting his head as he scanned the treeline. What followed were a series of short beeps that Ace had come to recognize as impatience.

"Uh-huh." He murmured, responding to the little BD-unit. They were running behind.

The convoy waited in a rough semicircle of speeders and supply crates. Their mission was simple: help who they could, get out before anyone noticed. Technically, they had no jurisdiction here. Republic territory. But the Path never refused aid to those who needed it. Interestingly, a Padawan affiliated with the Republic's Jedi Order came to aid. Isobel Serraris. He hadn't really spoken to her, didn't have much to say.

Ace stood, wiping his hands on his sleeve. Then he checked the line of evacuees waiting for rations. Eyes hollow. Faces streaked with dust and dirt. The kind of people who'd learned not to expect help from anyone with a badge or a flag.

Then he heard footsteps crunch through the underbrush. A woman in a dark green jacket approached with a datapad in hand. Tress, one of the Path's field operatives. Her face was drawn tight.

"You're gonna want to see this." She said, handing it over. "More missing reports from the refugee camp north of here. A dozen people, maybe more. Last seen near the Urus Fuelworks."

Ace frowned, scanning the file. The report included coordinates, timestamps, and a few shaky accounts from survivors who claimed to hear machinery underground. "Says the site's been shut down for years."

"Supposedly." Tress said. "Locals swear they've heard the drills again. We were going to send a team, but… no one's come back yet."

Ace looked past her toward the tree line. The air was still, too still, and somewhere far off, a low metallic groan rolled across the forest like a distant echo.

He shut off the datapad and passed it back. "I'll check it out."

Tress hesitated. "You sure? I know you carry a lightsaber, but if the ground's unstable--"

He cut her off with a faint shake of his head. "It's fine."

Behind him, Tic gave a low, anxious trill. Ace glanced down at the little droid, one corner of his mouth twitching. Guess that was two votes against. Didn't matter, Ace was running the show.

"Keep the convoy ready. If it goes bad, get these people out."

Tress nodded. "Be careful, Moonbound."

Ace adjusted the strap across his waist, checking his lightsaber's weight at his hip. "Careful's overrated."

Tic hopped up to his usual perch on his shoulder, claws clinking softly against his leather chestplate. He took a few steps toward the treeline. Then, without turning, he called back over the noise of the camp.

"Hey, Padawan." He said, voice level but carrying. "You're with me."

And with that, he started down the trail, the forest swallowing his silhouette as the hum of the convoy faded behind him.

Isobel Serraris​

 

[Isobel Serraris]

RUST AND RESOLVE​

Location — Malastare
Objective — Help the evacuees . . .
Tags — Acier Moonbound
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers

Despite the flourishing nature on this planet, the garden of the Force lay tainted by shadows--some cast by bright lights and being identifiable from afar, while others lay obscured, hidden beneath the surface. Whatever may be the cause of this rot, Ashla refused to guide her servant to its core. Though other forms of clarity could be found in the present, in those injured by the greed of others, in the smell of fuel that nigh on burned her nostrils. Her displeasure was, no doubt, but a fraction of what the inhabitants of the planets have encountered, time and time again. No matter how much she tried to patch up the victims these last few days, and aided in their displacement, the number of incidents kept rising.

Just as it did today.

The Nabooan had been poisoned by nightmares, bad omens of disaster... And the more she dreamt, the clearer these images grew: A raven circling a sun of sorts, or a star, its wings cutting through the heavy clouds of smoke and soot. The trees surrounding it crackling from flame, though their sounds were drowned out by the sobs and screams of others. It had taunted her in her sleep, over and over again, and sharper than this, the vision would not get. But a sun? What sort of madness must that encompass? Fire? Destruction? Tssk, the Force spoke in riddles, and she ultimately failed to see the reason in their guidance.

Though one way or the other, it was not only she that was drawn to this place, members of this rebel cell seemed to have taken notice of the worsening situation on Malastare. What had been their name? The Hidden Path? Hm, she could not find reason in hiding underground and operating there, as if she ever saw reason in war. . .

One such member of the Hidden Path was a boy her age, bearing a lightsaber on his hip--Yet from the way he addressed her, he did not align with the Jedi Order, or... did not take much of a liking to Shiraya's Order. But she gave no protest to his order and followed after him, pacing to keep up with the rebel. "The fuelworks, I presume?" She said at first, her voice soft and melodic. "Some of the refugees I've spoken with, said they had family hidden away in that area, the ones that refused to leave."

It must be difficult, to abandon one's life and belongings for a mere warning. And depending on the tone of its herald, one might not even take the hazard seriously. "By Shiraya. . . Had I known it would escalate once again, I would have tried something myself." Isobel swore, it felt unfair for these people to now suffer because of the actions of these corporations or mayhap even her Republic.

Though there was little time for introductions if lives were at stake, she still introduced herself, but her brown eyes remained on the smokeclouds in the distance. "I am Isobel Serraris, though I feel as if that matters little now, Rebel."

​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Malastare

Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic

Ace didn't slow his pace when she caught up. The trail narrowed as the forest closed in around them, roots coiling over the old service road like veins. Tic rode his shoulder, lens flicking between the Padawan and the shadows ahead.

"Good instincts." He answered "Refugees are saying folks went in and didn't come out. Figured the two Force users should investigate."

The light broke through the canopy, catching on the edge of his lightsaber hilt when he shifted it aside. Her tone had that softness he'd come to expect from Jedi... measured, calm. It also held some regal cadence that reminded him of Sibylla, maybe Isobel was a noble, too.

Isobel's mention of Shiraya drew a dry huff through his nose. But her words that followed, about trying herself if she'd known earlier, had him change tune.

"I get it. But, we can do something about it now."

When she introduced herself, Ace glanced at her and nodded, a faint smirk drawing on his lips. He stepped over a fallen branch, scanning the treeline as the low rumble of machinery rolled beneath their feet again.

"Ace." He said, introducing himself "'Rebel' works too." His attempt at a joke.

Tic gave a sharp double-beep, like a warning. Ace's hand dropped to his belt instinctively, but nothing moved among the trees. Just the sound of distant metal shifting, a deep groan from somewhere below ground. He relaxed and exhaled calmly.

"You said some of the families stayed behind?" Glancing toward the direction of the sound "We start there then."

He kept walking, the BD-unit's light flickering across the undergrowth ahead. As they travelled further toward the Fuelworks, he remained silent, listening as the chirp of insects shifted into shifting metal.

A few minutes later, the underbrush thinned and the ground began to slope. Between the trunks, the faint silhouette of a structure came into view. A collapsed entryway jutting out from the hillside, half-swallowed by moss and vines. A faded emblem was still visible across the metal plating in Aurabesh:

URUS FUELWORKS - SECTOR 9
​

Ace came to a stop resting a hand on one of the exposed pipes. The metal was cold. No vibration, no hum of active machinery. He crouched, brushing aside the leaves and debris.

"If anyone's alive, they'd head for shelter. Or they didn't make it out."

He hesitated a moment before moving further. The pipe beneath his hand thrummed faintly, just for an instant, but enough to make him still. Heat bled into his palm. Suddenly, the quiet forest was gone. A flash. There were screams, then the whine of drills spinning out of control. A choking haze of smoke and molten metal. Then silence again.

Ace pulled his hand back, flexing his fingers once as if to shake something loose. Tic gave a curious beep, leaning forward to study his expression.

"They were here." He sighed. "Didn't make it far."

Before he could say more, Tic hopped down from his shoulder and flicked on its spotlight. The narrow beam cut through the darkness, dancing across twisted rails and rusted stairs as the little droid chirped something that sounded far too eager.

Ace shook his head. "Alright, lead the way then."

He drew his lightsaber but didn't ignite it yet, following the BD-unit's glow as it skittered toward the opening. "Stay close." He said to Isobel without looking back. "If the floor gives, we're not getting a second chance."

Tic's light disappeared first, swallowed by the shadows of the Fuelworks, and Ace followed after.

Isobel Serraris​

 

[Isobel Serraris]

RUST AND RESOLVE​

Location — Malastare
Objective — Help the evacuees . . .
Tags — Acier Moonbound
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers

Inaction was not always viewed as the worst approach, or lack of approach. Or so her kin had taught her, feeding her spoonfuls of teachings about patience and observation rather than the action she so dearly sought to undertake. And what had been the result of it now? Refugees exposed to hazards that could have been prevented, had she acted. His words brought little solace to the ache, yet a Jedi must not falter when a storm or mishap wishes to lead them astray. A bitter pill to swallow when lives were at stake.

"Ace?" She said, more akin to a question than confirmation. "I meant no offense, I do not know what to call the members of the Path... group." Isobel offered an apologetic glance, and did not inquire further about what the insurrection was doing on Malastare -- aside from helping the High Republic's people. Yet she lacked the authority to send them away, or rather, did not wish to face her master's and council's judgment on her escapade. They would still ask her about it eventually, but hopefully when she had good news to deliver in return. "And who is your little friend? He seems adorable." Her eyes twinkled as she looked upon the small droid that sat perched atop of his shoulder.

Duty demanded she paid attention to her surroundings once more as they neared a collapsed entrance to one of the fuelworks many sites. Isobel attempted to move the heavy vines and the fallen tree branches out of the way to check if there was still any opening. Before the weight grew tiresome on her arms and she took a step back, studying it whilst her companion remained fixated on a metal pipe. "We should still check the passage, who knows if they got injured on the way out and are stuck." The protest left her weakly, swiftly drowned out by the sound of one of her lightsabers igniting. A pink blade leaving the floral emitter along with a louder hum that echoed throughout the alcove and beyond.

With two hands on the hilt, she guided the blade through the vines and branches blocking the road ahead. The heat burning through the plants with ease, and though it ached her, it was necessary if lives were at stake behind these blockades. The lightsaber hummed loudly through the Dragite gems in its core, though the Force rippled louder around the hand of Ace--and though it did not escape her, its meaning eluded her. So as the blade retracted into its core and the hilt briefly returned to her belt, she turned back to him with a question, or ten. "How do you know?" Left her lips first, all he did was look upon the metal and yet the Force harmonised with him. He carried a lightsaber, but she doubted him to be a padawan... It was strange.

"The Force resonated with you in a way and yet I saw nor felt anything change." The Nabooan proceeded, before following the droid into the narrow entryway. Her steps careful upon the metal plating, yet each bit of pressure forced another creak to appear. Some of the wear and tear had forced parts of the passage to sink, imbalancing the roads they trod. With a trembling hand, she unclipped the single-bladed lightsaber from its holder and ignited it, casting a bright pink light throughout the hall. Some of the walls carried oil stains where the pipes had opened--a possible risk for later--whilst others bore scars, mayhap from alien refugees or the local fauna that sought a place to hide? Isobel could not determine what creature may possible hide in one of the fuelworks passages. "Ace, come look at this." She beckoned him closer, pointing at the deep scars in one of the metal plating, bearing three claws from the looks of it.

​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Malastare

Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic

Ace glanced her way when she spoke his name. The apology in her voice was genuine, soft enough to cut through the hum of the forest.

"It's fine." He said "Was just trying to lighten the mood."

Then, the Padawan called Tic 'adorable', the little droid chirped excitedly, bouncing slightly on Ace's shoulder. He chuckled through his nose again, then threw a thumb in front of his shoulder - pointed toward the BD-unit.

"Little guy's name is Tic. Don't let him fool you, he's not as sweet as he looks." The BD-unit emitted an offended squawk, earning a quiet snort from him.

When Ace had investigated the pipe, Isobel had moved ahead. Her lightsaber flaring to life with a pink shimmer, cutting through the overgrowth in deliberate strokes. She had suggested still checking the passage, he didn't answer, but he agreed internally.

Eventually, she returned, the pink of her blade bled across his leather chestplate, tracing the curve of his shoulder before flickering out. Isobel asked him how he knew the refugees here didn't make it far.

"I can sense echoes." He answered. "Impressions burned into the Force. Places, objects, people... everything leaves something behind. I can read it when I focus. It's like listening to a voice that's already gone, but still screaming. Useful, but doesn't make it pleasant."

He let the silence stretch between them, dark eyes lingering on her for a moment. The air around Isobel carried a texture in the Force, unique to her, not commanding or 'whole' like most Jedi he'd met. Not yet, at least. But it was steady. Warm. It reminded him of soil after rain, of growth pushing through ash. Wherever she stepped, the cold in the air felt a little less heavy.

Then, they followed Tic into the dark. If they wanted to check for survivors, it was best they start there. The rebel could sense that she was tense shortly before she ignited her lightsaber again.

His own blade flared to life after, its blue glow illuminating his freckled features. After a short time, Isobel called out to him, summoning him over to come and look at... something. What she showed him were three claw marks, carved into the metal plating.

He reached out, fingertips tracing the uneven grooves. The Force stirred again, it wasn't the faint static of distant memory, but something fresher, sharper.

The walls came alive with motion. Sparks, shouting. The echo of steel bending under claws. A worker screaming as the lights went red. Then a shape, low, metallic, crawling along the ceiling. Then, the vision snapped back into silence.

Ace drew a slow breath through his nose "Mining droids." He muttered "Old ones. Rogue, too. Or... something's purposefully messed with them."

Tic warbled uneasily, swiveling its lens toward the shadows ahead. The faint hum of machinery rumbled deeper below.

Remembering what he sensed earlier from Isobel earlier, he halted from proceeding further for a moment.

"You alright?" He asked, giving her the space to reveal her feelings - or not.

Isobel Serraris ​

 

[Isobel Serraris]

RUST AND RESOLVE​

Location — Malastare
Objective — Help the evacuees . . .
Tags — Acier Moonbound
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers

The notion of the droid holding up a façade of his own made her chuckle. It was ridiculous to imagine such a small droid capable of any serious harm, though she would be a fool to test the truth of Acier's words. Instead she chose to incline her head for a moment toward their little companion. "Tic, then. And I shall be sure to mind his ire." Isobel quipped, trying to bring forth light into the shadowy hallways ahead of them. Before she turned back to the more pressing matters, such as finding out both the source of the disorder and location of the locals before time would run out.

When the boy explained the particular technique in the Force, she lifted a brow, having never heard of such a gift before. Though the archives held many secrets she had not yet unravelled, even when one of them plagued her through vague glimpses of not the past--but a future scenario. "So you can essentially hear the past? Aside from the echoes war may leave in its stead, it does not strike me as a curse." She hummed softly, partially gladdened by the fact she was not affected by these scars, but the light envy still lingered within her mind. Harmless, but present. "Yet I am not the one graced with such a gift, so how could I know?" The words were accompanied by an innocent smile.

The hum of her lightsaber was accompanied by another, softer but present, with a blue blade to cast a bright light over the many metal faces in the corridor. Each screw, each bit of rust now highlighted by their weaponry--none could sneak up on them now... Yet, he did not look Jedi, or at least not in the traditional manner, which made way for another question in the rowdy hallway. "So you wield the Force, carry a lightsaber, and yet... wear rogueish robes and do not act a Jedi." It was not meant as an insult, merely a blunt observation, and yet it did leave her with an air of judgment. The type that could not comprehend people walking away or not aligning themselves with a Jedi Order or Enclave.

The air remained tense, unspoken words laying dormant between the pair as they continued their pursuit of the refugees.

With the scarring on the metal plates, his gift was once again called upon. "Were you born with this gift, or did someone teach you the technique?" The Padawan inquired, her curiosity bordering fascination. The desire to plead him for lessons grew louder in her mind, strengthening akin to a rising storm. Her gaze drifted back to the scars, as she traced the ridges with her fingertips--until a sharp edge dug into her skin, drawing forth a light trickle of blood. While it stung, it was no worse a rose's thorn, there were more pressing matters at hand. For if his words were true, these Mining Droids could pose a threat to their investigation, or perhaps lead them to where the refugees were hiding.

"We should stay alert." Isobel said, before beckoning him to move down the corridor. The clock was ticking rapidly, and who knew how much longer the Malastarian people had left?

​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Malastare

Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic

Ace didn't answer Isobel right away. Her voice filled the corridor easily and he caught the faint echo of her tone bouncing off the walls, mixing with the hum of their lightsabers.

"More or less." He answered, finally, but Isobel's comment on not believing it to be a curse earned her a sidelong glance "Most echoes left behind aren't nice ones. Trauma's louder than happy memories. 'Least in my experience."

He stepped over a broken beam, eyes narrowing as her pink blade swept light over the corroded walls. He heard the crumb of judgement laced in her tone when she made the observation that he wasn't a Jedi. That was new. Normally other Jedi didn't care, or understood he was simply walking his own path.

"You're right. I'm not a Jedi." His admission was unbothered, a simple fact rather than defiance "But I still believe in using my power to do what I can, and that's enough for me."

Then, he flipped it back to her "And you? You reek of nobility, yet you're a Jedi-in-training. But which one's really you, though."

When the young Padawan asked him about his gift again, for a brief moment, Ace glanced back toward the scarred plating before flicking back to Isobel.

"Someone taught me. Jedi Knight named Aadihr Lidos . Didn't learn until later that it's something you're born with... Maybe you were too."

He knew why she had asked. She was curious, curious enough to see if it was an ability she could learn herself. The ashen-haired rebel glanced over as she traced the same mark and hissed softly. A bead of blood welled on her fingertip, catching the light of her lightsaber. He said nothing at first, just reached to his belt, tore a strip of fabric from an old ration wrap, and handed it over.

"It isn't much, but..." His gaze lingered for a second before returning down the hall.

Tic chirped ahead, it was quick, urgent. Ace's expression hardened as the little droid's lens flicked toward the dark. He took a step forward, lightsaber raised. Tic's beam caught a flicker of red light deeper in the tunnel - a single photoreceptor flare, then another beside it.

"You feel that?" He murmured. "Something's moving."

Tic's beam cutting through the dust and haze. The cone of light caught a flicker of red deeper down the tunnel... one, then two, then three sharp photoreceptor flares staring back at them. Metal scraped against metal.

The first mining droid dropped from the ceiling in a shower of rust and sparks. He pivoted, swinging up in a single motion, the blade tore through its midsection, splitting the frame before it could land. The deactivated droid hit the floor hard, limbs twitching.

Ace entered his makeshift Djem So stance as he eyed down the other two approaching.

Isobel Serraris​

 

[Isobel Serraris]

RUST AND RESOLVE​

Location — Malastare
Objective — Help the evacuees . . .
Tags — Acier Moonbound
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers

The confirmation was akin to a bitter pill--to be entrusted with such a power, only for it to cast an endless gloom upon its usage. A tragedy writing itself on a blank vellum. Part of her longed to express her own struggles with the premonitions, yet with the amount of ill-will in a galaxy so vast, the dangers would be too high. What if someone else may hear it, what if Ace is not who he is, the information would be a possible hazard in the wrong hands and Isobel was not blind to it. Still, it would not deter her from seeking out a solution, a clarification, for these visions, and mayhap there was one for him too. Somewhere.

Her judgment of his person was countered as swiftly as it had been served, her lips uncommonly twitched downwards as she took in his words. "I do not reek--" The young Nabooan blurted out as they continued to traverse the debris and unstable pathway. How could he smell her? She had bathed before they had set out for the day--a necessary measure with the smoke and oil poisoning the air. "If anything, your rebel musk is what you smell." She scoffed softly, not a sound often heard from her charming lips, drowned out by the loud hum of her lightsaber as they pressed onwards. The realisation that his words may not be so literal and insulting did not cross her train of thought as her brow still twitched in thought.

Upon noticing the light beads of red trailing down her hand, she brought the hand to her tense lips and tried to suck some of the blood and clean the edge before taking the scrap of cloth from him gratefully. Weaving it around the wounds before tying it down into a firm yet small knot. "Thank you," The earlier hostility vanishing in the dense air. "House Serraris," She began, her gaze flicking between the bloodied cloth around her wounds and the shadowed hallway ahead. "Is my family, they mostly concern themselves with floristry and certain memorial gardens near Theed. We are not a prestigious house with several branches, and in spite of that, my Lord father did concede to me becoming a Jedi." She elaborated, though the words may appear negative, her tone did not follow the rhythm, instead morphing into a gentle and instructive one.

Once done, her eyes carefully wandered back to the freckled features of her rebel companion. "So you are a bit of a rogue." Her words as blunt as a blow from a mace as she commented on his unaligned state. Her experience when it came to other factions than the regular Jedi and Sith was scarce--surely mentions about historical groupings had crossed her studies, but more than that... no. "Wandering outside of any Order must not be pleasant, no guidance, no code other than your own." Mayhap this was a preference, mayhap this was simply how life had been. Isobel could not fathom living without structure, without constant guidance from her superiors. And yet Ace seemed almost contented with this life, but she could not and would not look inside of his head to see if that were truly so.

The chirping Tic and the rattling of metal did not escape her. The sound was loud, echoing throughout the tunnel, as the number of red lights multiplied with the second. Her hand trembled and tried to reach out for her other lightsaber, missing the hilt twice. "I see it..." She concurred, her voice higher pitched, as if holding her breath. In time, the first droid was split in half by Acier's aggressive swings, whilst she tried to lock the two hilts together. A double-bladed lightsaber might just give her the space she needs...

One of the first droids approached, its steel plating creaking as it walked, the crimson light flaring up once within their proximity. "Why would mining droids be hostile?" She asked, bringing several strikes forward and upward to the robotic worker, striking it once before the dragite gem send it back flying, colliding with another metallic droid. The move only provided them a little room to breathe, as one of their foes began aiming their mining laser toward their direction. . .

​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Malastare

Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic

Ace dropped low as the mining laser cut a molten line through the tunnel's wall The heat rolled off in waves.

"They're not just hostile..." He called, teeth clenched "They're coordinated."

The droid that Isobel had thrown into the other droid staggered upright again, plates screeching as it steadied itself. Its optics burned red as it recalibrated and set its sights back on her. Ace moved before it could charge.

His lightsaber came up in a heavy Djem So swing, colliding with the droid's arm mid-strike. He twisted and reversed the motion in one clean movement, driving the blue blade through its core. Sparks scattered across his boots as the machine slumped in two pieces.

"And I didn't mean reek like that!" He added, breath tight with effort. "More like... you move like someone who's had etiquette lessons. Nobility's written all over you." The blue light of his lightsaber caught on his smirk before fading in the haze. "And for the record, the rebel musk comes with the job."

Tic gave a disapproving chirp. Ace ignored it, scanning the corridor as the last mining droid's torch flared white-hot. The machine locked onto both of them, legs bracing, and the air vibrated with the rising pitch of its charge.

"You're not wrong about one thing though." He muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing on the light. "Being a rogue's not so bad. You make your own code, you live by it."

The torch fired again. Ace stepped forward into the beam, lightsaber angled low. his stance absorbing the hit. Heat scorched past his cheek as he redirected the blast upward, carving across the ceiling.

"Now!" He shouted, pivoting to open the droid's flank for Isobel to counterstrike.

The droid staggered sideways, claw scraping against the wall for balance. Its torch sputtered out for half a second, just enough to catch its mechanical bearings before reigniting, fiercer.

Isobel only had a short window to strike.

Isobel Serraris​

 

[Isobel Serraris]

RUST AND RESOLVE​

Location — Malastare
Objective — Help the evacuees . . .
Tags — Acier Moonbound
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers

A blaze of light grazed her shoulder, its heat nigh on biting through her robes' fabric. She ducked, her breath coming in chaotic pants. Must every day feel akin to wrestling a bantha? At this rate, simply surviving until dusk would be a blessing enough. However, the swift dodge left her flank open, a mistake not lost on her--for as she scrambled back to her feet, Ace covered her with a brief clash with one of the droids. As the screeching sound of a lightsaber frying the circuits could be heard, another heavy breath escaped her, but one of relief rather than exhaustion. "Thank you, Ace." She mumbled and nodded in agreement, the synchronisation of these droids and their targeted assault of two individuals was enough evidence. Yet who might orchestrate this? What good were mining droids and why were they defending one of the entrances to the fuelworks?

"Mayhap it is a group of industrialists trying to exploit the terrain further!" Her voice was sharper, unrefined. The mere thought of the nature being depleted of its life--of its purity--was scandalous. Inhumane. The people affected by the disasters were of importance as well, but their lives spanned for shorter times than the decades if not centuries it would take to restore this flora to its original condition. The fire within her began to burn a little brighter than before. And the comment from her newfound ally did plenty to throw fuel atop of the flame. For a second its flickering darkness may yet rise to an inferno, if it were not for the fight drawing her focus elsewhere. Her lightsaber hummed loudly as it twirled within her grasp, the flank of the droid now lay exposed--and part of her longed to prolong its state of weakness, but her code refused.

One hand kept her lightsaber steady, whilst the other shot forward, hurling the Force in a burst that slammed the droid against the wall. Its weight resisted only for a second before the lightsaber dealt the final blow--a clean burning strike. A second shockwave rippled through the corridor, then silence followed as the dragite blade retracted. Her breath came in shallowly, as if treading an uncertain path, not knowing whether it would crush you or make you disappear into the void. Her clumsily bandaged hand moved up to her face as she dragged it down over it, the cold of her fingertips cooling her burning hot skin. The Padawan refused to turn around toward the rebel yet, the shift in the Force was amateurish--trivial--but plain to see to even the simplest of force-sensitives.

"The refugees are still out there," She mumbled, swallowing her nerves, but her voice remained quieted. "Time is of the essence, if we do not move now then who knows what this... puppeteer may unleash upon us. There is only so many droids that we can face amid the dark." Isobel noted, reigniting her lightsaber with a click, whilst stepping over the droid's dismembered parts and continued down the corridor. In the far distance a faint shimmering of light pierced the darkness--a path forward or another foe to be slain. Either way, they had to make choices now, lest it all be for nothing.

​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Malastare

Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic

The last droid hit the wall hard, sparks coughing from its joints before her blade carved through the frame. The shockwave echoed down the corridor until nothing but the hum of his lightsaber filled the air.

Ace lowered his weapon, breath steadying, his eyes flicked to the metal carcasses scattered across the area, barely lit by the glow of his weapon. Then his eyes settled on her, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lip.

"Not bad for a florist." He said at last, tone dry but it was a tease wrapped around a genuine compliment.

Even Tic agreed, chirping from a safe spot, seconding Ace's praise. Recalling the Padawan's earlier suspicion of industrialists earlier, he stepped over the wreckage, closing the distance between Isobel and himself.

"Industrialists. That'd make sense."

His off-hand rested on his hip, Ace took a moment to ponder more on the theory. Someone's pulling the strings, coordinating machines like soldiers. Was this really just greed at play? Or something more?

Isobel's urgent words snapped him out of his thoughts, his gaze rising to meet hers. Nodding, he adjusted the strap of his belt and extinguished his lightsaber.

"Let's go. Tic, lead the way."

Tic beeped affirmatively, spotlight switching back on and skipping ahead to guide the pair. Tic's beam skimmed over the warped corridor ahead, light catching on streaks of oil that looked too fresh to belong to an abandoned facility.

They passed what had once been a maintenance station. The consoles were shattered, wiring torn, and, strangely, there was a half-melted shape of a worker droid fused into the wall. There was a datapad, laying nearby, its casing was scorched but still intact enough to flicker when Tic's light hit it. Ace crouched, brushing dust away and powering the screen with a few taps of his knuckles.

Lines of corrupted text scrolled across. He caught a few words between the static:

—URUS CONTROL OVERRIDE—
—TEST SUBJECTS TRANSFERRED—
—SEQUENCE_02 READY—
​

He frowned, then lifted his head to look at Isobel "So, someone's been down here recently." Standing again, Ace handed the datapad over for Isobel to look over.

As she did so, he glanced toward the dark ceiling stretching above them. "Tic, see if you can find a backup generator. Something small, just enough to bring the lights up."

The little droid chirped, skittering to a nearby panel half-buried in debris. Sparks flared as Tic plugged his scomp link into the generator's socket. For a moment nothing happened, then a low hum rippled through the corridor as emergency power surged back to life. Strips of old yellow light flickered along the walls, painting everything in a sickly glow.

Ace smiled, throwing the little BD-droid a thumbs up. With the lights on, the duo could better see that the corridor had widened into a larger chamber ahead. Scaffolding rose around a massive cylindrical core in the center of the room, faint red lights blinked along its sides.

"Tic." Ace said quietly. As he returned to Ace and Isobel, the little droid projected a low scan, an outline of the chamber rippling across the walls. The structure extended far below them. The readings were layered and dense.

Ace studied the projection, tracing the lines of piping and conduits leading toward the core. None of it matched normal refinery schematics. There were no dispersal valves, no exhaust shafts... just compression rings and coolant lines converging toward a single containment hub.

"That datapad said 'subjects transferred...'" His voice lowered, more to himself than to her. "The missing refugees… that's what they meant. This place isn't refining fuel anymore..." He said, looking to Isobel. "It's using people."

Isobel Serraris ​

 

[Isobel Serraris]

RUST AND RESOLVE​

Location — Malastare
Objective — Help the evacuees . . .
Tags — Acier Moonbound
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers

The taste of ash cursed her lips once more as the vision of before returned to her eyes; a flaming sun, a white raven, a symphony of screams, and the promise of destruction to Malastare's nature. None of it made any sense, not even with the mining droids now lying before them, but such was the way of premonitions. For the Jedi Holocrons had warned her they were to be accepted with a grain of salt, for their purpose and truth lay obscured in peculiar veils and acts. The intrusion still forced a stop to her tracks for a moment, falling behind the rebel and his droid companion. Mayhap their meaning was not to be taken literally, and mayhap their pursuit would shed a light on this shadowy foretelling. For now, 'twas no more than a distraction, meant to keep her attention away from what was at stake.

With a shake of her head, Isobel snapped out of it and paced after the Jedi with quick steps--her double-bladed weapon humming loudly within her grasp. She swiftly found her way over to the maintenance station, partially destroyed and clearly the aftermath of a skirmish of sorts. "What happened here?" She gullibly mumbled while walking around the station, moving her lightsaber to provide a little more light upon the dark metals. Though she was swiftly drawn back to Ace's side as he held out a datapad to her. It still had power, which meant the events could not have happened too long ago--hopefully... The contents were vague or more foreboding than the visions. Her eyebrow quirked up lightly as she read the words aloud, hoping it would sound less threatening than expected. "(...) Test subjects? Why would refugees be test subjects?" The Padawan asked aloud.

As the lights flickered on, the truth did not grow any clearer--or that was if Isobel had anything to say for it. Her eyes continued to scan the three lines of data on the device, praying it would be akin to a puzzle, where a clue might lurk somewhere among the information. "Sequence two... Feels as if this is a part of a bigger plan, a mechanism-- But I know very little about," Her hand gestured toward the maintenance chamber and the device, both parts of technology. "This." Her assumptions were swiftly swallowed by the waves of information the droid provided. The Padawan's lightsaber turned off, allowing her to listen closely to what her ally had to say on the matter.

The blueprints of the refinery seemed alright to her, and the outside still looked like a normal fuel plant. To hear Acier mutter such ridiculosity made her chuckle loudly: "Using people? We are not in some horror tale, snap out of it." Her words were devoid of any warmth, they were awkward and almost distant. Whilst the lips spoke their disagreement, her mind tried to make sense of what he claimed to be truth. A fuel refinery, using people? What purpose would that serve? People would notice-- And it was inhumane and criminal, the consequences were critical to both the business and the people in charge. The girl turned her gaze to Ace once more, trying to see any deception in his gaze. "You're joking... right?" Her jaw tensed when no glimmer of hilarity met his eyes. "Right..?" She asked another time.

With a grumble she shook her head and walked away from the pair, attempting to process the absurdity of this 'mission'.

​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Malastare

Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic

Isobel's disbelief was understandable. Most people needed to laugh before they could accept something like this. But Ace had seen too much of what the galaxy was capable of... nothing surprised him anymore, not even this.

He didn't argue or try to convince her. He just watched as the Padawan's denial slowly shifted into acceptance. He gestured toward the melted droid fused into the wall, then the datapad still faintly glowing in her hand. Test subjects. Sequence two. His eyes lingered on the words on the screen.

"Droids don't coordinate like this unless they've got someone... or something... telling them to."

Tic beeped softly, then turned his lens toward the chamber ahead. The little droid gave a sharp chirp and projected a new scan. New blips appeared, they were faint, clustered deep below the containment core. Ace moved closer, expression tightening. They were living signatures.

"They're alive." He said quietly, more to himself than to her. "At least some of them."

He moved toward a high maintenance platform, just across the chamber. The railing trembled every few seconds as the machinery pulsed. Below, red lights blinked across a web of walkways and pressurized vats.

Ace looked back at Isobel "If we move now, we can save the survivors." He said, voice even.

He moved along the platform as Tic's beam skimmed over the grated flooring. Ahead, a narrow stairwell spiraled downward into the dark, lit only by a few dying red lights. The air grew thicker the further they went. The hum of machinery deepened into a low, continuous drone that set the walls vibrating. Pipes rattled, leaking wisps of steam.

Ace slowed, hand hovering near his lightsaber hilt. He felt a shift in the Force, that same pit in his stomach he always got when danger was ahead. He tilted his chin toward the lower levels, then looked at Isobel.

"You sense anything?" Then, he paused for a moment and his tone softened, conveying concern. "Are you alright?" He asked. "You took the information hard earlier."

Tic trilled quietly, the sound soft but uneasy. Ace stayed where he was, waiting for her read of the Force before making another move.

Isobel Serraris​

 

[Isobel Serraris]

RUST AND RESOLVE​

Location — Malastare
Objective — Help the evacuees . . .
Tags — Acier Moonbound
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers

The absurdity of it all brought no smile or bemusement to her tensed expression--her teeth grinding over one another in a rare show of annoyance. Their lives were not some tales in a storybook, written for the interest of the reader. So why must this... event, this 'plot' be as absurd as such fictions! An irritated grumble left her lips as she turned around, pacing back and forth. Yet in anger one may not see clarity, it was a common lesson taught among the Jedi; Passionate emotions only fueled the delusions one may already face, they may be the reason a spark morphs into an inferno. Not to say that was not the exact desire of some vessels of Bogan.

Yet she was a servant of Ashla. Not to be corrupted by mindless façades and libels. The Jedi took a deep breath, attempting to steady herself, attempting to feel the air around them--from the dust that entered her lungs with each breath, to the light tinge of metal upon her tongue. It gradually soothed her mind, forging a bridge away from the delirium her disbelief had shaped. "So there is something. . . Or someone ordering these droids to act this way, and with the purpose of," Isobel could not bring herself to say the words, waltzing around them. "Dictating. . . Another's destiny." She managed to settle on, hardly as violent as 'using them for fuel', but the thought alone made her retch.

The notion of the refugees being alive drew her attention back to Acier, following him to the walkway. "If there is a chance, still, then why are we still doing nothing?" Her words were hurried, reckless even, as her saberstaff ignited once more, the pink light glittering in the dark hall. With careful steps, she made her way across the creaking metal plates--she swore she would not look down, but that single glance cursed her with dread. The countless levels below, and the maze-like structure of it all, one could jump down but given the rattling of the metal--their fall would not be so kind. "Watch your step, Rebel." A lousy warning.

Her gaze moved toward the stairway, as she took another few steps forward. The Dark Side was ever present, not in unison with the light, but... darker, corrupting even, luring its victims with the promise of power. But it was not might to be granted, it was only the cold blade of death that awaited those willing to listen. "I sense it. It is faint, but I feel it. Ashla protect us." The Padawan murmured a hushed plea as she made her descent, the lightsaber idly humming in her grasp, whilst her gaze set upon the gloom before her. With each step, the air seemed to weigh more and more, as though dust--or may it be poison?--crept into her lungs.

​