Private Smoke and Shadows

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

The air stank of oil, spice, and sweat — the perfume of desperation that never quite faded from Mek-Sha's underbelly. Lights flickered overhead in a lazy strobe, illuminating her path. Somewhere nearby, a generator groaned like it was dying for the hundredth time. Valery moved through the crowds without drawing much attention, hood up, cloak trailing behind her like a whisper.

Her eyes — sharp, amber, unflinching — missed nothing.

Her target was here. Tor Vex. Spice broker. Former Imperial asset turned underworld tyrant. He'd carved out a niche in Mek-Sha's reactor district, running shipments through hidden corridors and bribing just enough local enforcers to keep off the radar. A ghost, to most.

But not to her.

Valery paused at the edge of a narrow overpass, one level above the sector's trading pit. Below, a few rough-looking guards clustered near a shuttered door — not street muscle. Hired. Paid well. Nervous, too. "Getting close," she murmured to herself, fingers brushing the hidden comm on her belt. A little too visible for comfort. She took one quiet step back into the shadows, about to circle the upper catwalk for a better angle, when she felt it.

A shift. Not in the crowd. In the air. Like someone else was watching the same target. Someone trained. Silent. Not afraid.

Valery narrowed her eyes.

She wasn't the only one on the hunt tonight.

Lucaant Vaneric ​

 

[Lucaant Vaneric]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

The air stank of oil, spice, and sweat — the perfume of desperation that never quite faded from Mek-Sha's underbelly. Lights flickered overhead in a lazy strobe, illuminating her path. Somewhere nearby, a generator groaned like it was dying for the hundredth time. Valery moved through the crowds without drawing much attention, hood up, cloak trailing behind her like a whisper.

Her eyes — sharp, amber, unflinching — missed nothing.

Her target was here. Tor Vex. Spice broker. Former Imperial asset turned underworld tyrant. He'd carved out a niche in Mek-Sha's reactor district, running shipments through hidden corridors and bribing just enough local enforcers to keep off the radar. A ghost, to most.

But not to her.

Valery paused at the edge of a narrow overpass, one level above the sector's trading pit. Below, a few rough-looking guards clustered near a shuttered door — not street muscle. Hired. Paid well. Nervous, too. "Getting close," she murmured to herself, fingers brushing the hidden comm on her belt. A little too visible for comfort. She took one quiet step back into the shadows, about to circle the upper catwalk for a better angle, when she felt it.

A shift. Not in the crowd. In the air. Like someone else was watching the same target. Someone trained. Silent. Not afraid.

Valery narrowed her eyes.

She wasn't the only one on the hunt tonight.

Lucaant Vaneric ​

"Oh, my God will certainly forgive you... But unfortunately, I won't."

⏵ Play Theme

Location: Mek-Sha
Objective: Complete the contract.
People involved: Valery Noble
---​

The air of Mek-Sha, was a familiar, almost comforting blanket around Luccant. It was the perfume of desperation, clinging to the underbelly of the city like a second skin. He’d been working this sector for hours, a ghost himself amidst the lazy, strobing lights and the distant, dying groan of some overworked generator. Tor Vex was the name that had drawn him here, a whisper of a target in the underworld, and Luccant intended to ensure that whisper became a silenced scream.

He'd meticulously observed the cluster of guards below, their postures stiff with well-paid nervousness, their loyalty as thin as the air they breathed. That's when she moved into his field of vision – a cloaked figure, subtle as a shadow, her movements precise. He felt the weight of her gaze even from this distance, an unblinking intensity that missed nothing. She paused at the overpass, a hand brushing a hidden comm, and for a fleeting moment, Luccant considered whether his window for a clean strike was closing.

Then, he felt the shift. It wasn't a ripple in the wind, or a disturbance in the teeming crowd below. It was a pressure in the air, a hum against his own senses. A presence, trained and silent, radiating a cold competence. Someone else was on the hunt, stalking the same prey. His hyper-vigilant instincts, honed by a lifetime of being both predator and prey, flared with immediate recognition. He'd sensed her before she had sensed him, a ghost in the periphery of his awareness, a faint echo of purpose that now resonated with his own.

Luccant didn't move. He didn't blink. Only his cackling dark blue hair visible under the low-hanging shadows, seemingly absorbing the flickering light around him, rendering his expression unreadable. He simply adjusted his weight, a minute shift of balance that only experimented soldiers would register. This new presence wasn't a threat, not yet, but a variable. It complicated his approach, certainly. Yet, beneath the pragmatism, a subtle, almost imperceptible spark of interest ignited. The hunt for Tor Vex had just become more intricate, perhaps even more worthy of his attention. He wasn't the only blade tonight, and that, in its own way, was a quiet kind of challenge.
​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

She didn't turn around. Didn't reach for her saber. Didn't touch her comm again. But she felt it — that subtle shift in the shadows behind her. Not a threat exactly. Not yet. But not some dockside thug fumbling with a blaster either. Whoever it was… they were good.

Better than most who stalk these alleys.

Her pace didn't change. She let the air carry the tension a few beats longer, slipping from the overpass into the access corridor that flanked the pit below. The buzz of neon signs and generator hum narrowed into a tunnel of static and metal. Footfalls faded beneath the hiss of steam vents. She didn't need to see her follower. The presence was still there — precise, balanced, focused.

A predator.

But so was she. Valery passed through a rusted threshold, the flickering panel above it barely clinging to life. Ahead, a secondary platform overlooked a shipping lane of cargo sleds and power conduits — and tucked behind it, a recessed vault door, thick with grime and heat. Two more guards loitered nearby, postures too rigid, hands too close to their weapons.

That's where he is.

She moved to a stack of broken crates just shy of the platform and crouched, watching.

Tor Vex. Even through the haze and distance, she could see the man pacing inside through a cracked viewport — tall, hair slicked back like an old holonet crooner past his prime. He was flanked by two guards, both leaning over a table littered with datapads and flickering holomaps. Spice routes. Inventory manifests. Black-market deals in transit.

She slowly reached into a pocket on her belt and pulled a compact sensor jammer, thumbing the trigger until it hummed faintly and disrupted any local surveillance within twenty meters. Not enough to trip alarms — just enough to buy time. Then, without looking back, she murmured under her breath, "I don't know who you are…"

A pause as she exhaled.

"…but if you're smart, you'll stay out of my way."

She stood and stepped into the open, hair catching in the breeze like a shadow turned solid.

The game had begun.

Lucaant Vaneric ​

 

[Lucaant Vaneric]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

She didn't turn around. Didn't reach for her saber. Didn't touch her comm again. But she felt it — that subtle shift in the shadows behind her. Not a threat exactly. Not yet. But not some dockside thug fumbling with a blaster either. Whoever it was… they were good.

Better than most who stalk these alleys.

Her pace didn't change. She let the air carry the tension a few beats longer, slipping from the overpass into the access corridor that flanked the pit below. The buzz of neon signs and generator hum narrowed into a tunnel of static and metal. Footfalls faded beneath the hiss of steam vents. She didn't need to see her follower. The presence was still there — precise, balanced, focused.

A predator.

But so was she. Valery passed through a rusted threshold, the flickering panel above it barely clinging to life. Ahead, a secondary platform overlooked a shipping lane of cargo sleds and power conduits — and tucked behind it, a recessed vault door, thick with grime and heat. Two more guards loitered nearby, postures too rigid, hands too close to their weapons.

That's where he is.

She moved to a stack of broken crates just shy of the platform and crouched, watching.

Tor Vex. Even through the haze and distance, she could see the man pacing inside through a cracked viewport — tall, hair slicked back like an old holonet crooner past his prime. He was flanked by two guards, both leaning over a table littered with datapads and flickering holomaps. Spice routes. Inventory manifests. Black-market deals in transit.

She slowly reached into a pocket on her belt and pulled a compact sensor jammer, thumbing the trigger until it hummed faintly and disrupted any local surveillance within twenty meters. Not enough to trip alarms — just enough to buy time. Then, without looking back, she murmured under her breath, "I don't know who you are…"

A pause as she exhaled.

"…but if you're smart, you'll stay out of my way."

She stood and stepped into the open, hair catching in the breeze like a shadow turned solid.

The game had begun.

Lucaant Vaneric ​

"Oh, my God will certainly forgive you... But unfortunately, I won't."

⏵ Play Theme

Location: Mek-Sha
Objective: Complete the contract | Study the Outsider
People involved: Valery Noble
---​

She stepped into the open like a blade unsheathed — all precision and danger, no noise wasted. Her words should’ve sent any thug scurrying back into the dark.

But not him.

The hiss of a vent cut through the tension as Lucaant emerged from the shadows, one slow step at a time. Not trying to be silent. Just controlled. His silhouette caught the pulse of the broken overheads — a tall figure wrapped in matte, dark combat armor that bore the unmistakable scrapes and scars of real violence. No crest. No allegiance. Just purpose.

His helmet was off, clipped to his belt. His face was calm — not blank, not smug. Just… aware. As if he’d already imagined three ways this moment could end.

He stopped just short of threatening, hands open and away from the blaster on his hip. No sudden moves. No games.

"If I wanted to stop you, you'd know already."

His voice was steady, almost quiet — not because he lacked power, but because he didn’t need to raise it. Words, for him, were measured. Tools, not theatrics.

A faint mechanical click came from the forearm panel on his left vambrace as he scanned the alley’s flow of power and heat. A gesture more out of habit than need.

"But I don’t."

He nodded toward the vault door behind her, then to the guards.

"Vex has something I need, among other things. You’re not in my way... yet."

His armor creaked softly as he shifted his stance, boots finding steady ground like someone who’d fought on too many different kinds of it. The plating wasn’t glossy, just reinforced — welded plates over layered flexmesh, a rig for someone who expected to get shot at and not die when it happened.

"Sensor jammer was well-timed. Could’ve been mine. It wasn’t."

There was no arrogance in his tone. Just an observation.

"I’m not here to slow you down. But I’m also not turning around."

He watched her, eyes sharp. Not daring her. Just watching. Waiting.

"You can make this a solo thing. Or we move together and get it done faster."

A beat passed — filled only by the distant hum of sled engines and the crackle of a faulty neon.

"Your move."​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery didn't flinch when he stepped into the light. She didn't turn to face him fully either — just shifted enough to keep him in view, one shoulder angled back, posture relaxed but ready. A duelist's stance. A predator's stillness. Her eyes flicked over him once — matte armor, scar-scored but serviceable, helmet at his hip, and a face like a man who'd seen too much to waste time with bravado.

She could work with that. And he was handsome, in that quiet, burn-you-slow kind of way. Her mouth curled, not quite a smirk — just a sliver of knowing. "I've seen bounty hunters shoot their way through twenty guards just to grab the wrong datapad and call it a win," she said evenly. "You don't look that stupid."

She turned her head a little more now, amber eyes meeting his without flinching.

"So you want Vex. I want answers. You're in it for the credits?" she asked, voice low and clipped, but not unfriendly. "If so, take your cut when it's over. I don't care for credits." She reached back slowly, flicking her saber just far enough to loosen it from her belt, then let her hand drop again — not threatening, just making it clear she wasn't bluffing.

Another breath passed between them. Then she looked toward the vault again.

"Move with me. We hit hard, fast, and quiet. Jammer's got us a window — let's not waste it." Then, with one step forward, she led the way. Not waiting to see if he followed.

But fully expecting that he would.

Lucaant Vaneric ​

 

[Lucaant Vaneric]

"Oh, my God will certainly forgive you... But unfortunately, I won't."

⏵ Play Theme

Location: Mek-Sha
Objective: Complete the contract | Study the Outsider
People involved: Valery Noble
---​

"I’m not here to slow you down."

The words weren’t barked. No bravado, no theatrics. Just steady confidence — like someone used to walking through fire and not checking for burns after. He followed without hesitation, the soft clink of his gear the only sound he brought with him.

"You lead. I’ll follow — for now. Not because I take orders easy... but because you look like someone who doesn’t make dumb ones."

A beat.

"That’s rarer than you’d think."

His eyes scanned the shadows ahead, already dissecting angles, exits, cover. He didn’t ask about the plan again — he’d already decided. This wasn’t about trust. Not yet. It was about momentum. And instinct.

"Not in it for the credits either. They spend fast and disappear faster. I’m here for something that sticks. Something that doesn’t fall apart the second it’s tested. Well, if I can get credits that's a bonus but information is my priority."

He caught her silhouette against the glow of the vault corridor — blade-ready, purpose sharp.

"Seen too many people fold when it matters. Say they’ve got your back until it’s time to bleed for it. You? You move like you’ve bled already."

There was no judgment in his tone. Just an edge. Like he was weighing something.

"So I’ll match your pace. Hit hard, hit clean. No dead weight. And if you’re half as sharp as you carry yourself…" A faint flicker of something crossed his face, not a smirk. Something older. Like hope with its teeth bared.

"…then maybe this won’t be another disappointment."

He adjusted the strap at his shoulder, eyes forward now. Voice low. Final.

"Let’s move. Before we get busted.] He said before unsheathing his vibroblade and removing his DC-17 gun safety.​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery didn't look back when he spoke, but she heard the shift in his tone. The weight behind the words. She could work with that too. Her steps were quick but measured as they moved deeper into the corridor, the hum of low-grade security sensors just audible beneath the quiet. The vault wasn't far now. Two more turns, one more set of guards. She knew the layout. Her intel had been good.

"I'm not here to kill Vex," she said over her shoulder, just to be certain. "Not unless he makes it absolutely necessary." She glanced back briefly, just enough to meet his eyes again. "I want information. He's tied to something bigger. Something that doesn't leave a trail unless we leave him breathing." Another turn. The glow of a motion sensor flashed and faded, bypassed by their window. Ahead, the main access door to the inner vault chamber.

Valery slowed, then stopped just beside the threshold. She reached out, sensing the life inside. Three signatures, armed, but distracted. Her fingers hovered over the ignition of her saber, then dropped again. Not yet.

"We take out the guards, quiet. Then we corner Vex. He talks, we go. Simple."

A pause.

"If he's smart, he'll give us what we need without making it ugly." Another glance toward Lucaant. Her expression hadn't changed, but something in her eyes had shifted.

"You good with that?"

Lucaant Vaneric ​

 

[Lucaant Vaneric]

"Oh, my God will certainly forgive you... But unfortunately, I won't."

⏵ Play Theme

Location: Mek-Sha
Objective: Complete the contract | Incapacitate the guard
People involved: Valery Noble
---​

He didn’t answer her question immediately. Instead, he stepped forward—calm, precise.

Not rushing. Not hesitating.

The moment Valery paused at the threshold, Lucaant moved past her.

Not disrespect. Just decision.

The vibroblade left its sheath with a whisper—no hum, no flash. Just that cold phrik glint catching the low light like a predator's eye.

Inside, the guards didn’t even have time to shout.

He flowed into the chamber like a shadow breaking loose from a wall—low, efficient, deadly. The first went down with a crack across the side of the head—spine stunned, not dead. The second turned, reaching for a blaster.

Alarmingly fast.

Lucaant caught his wrist, twisted, drove the hilt of the blade into the man’s throat and dropped him, gasping and unconscious, before he could cry out.

The third saw him coming—managing to draw his blaster and half a step back before Lucaant spun the blade once and drove it clean across the guard’s leg as he hit him in the throat. He folded with a choked cry—alive, bleeding, not dying. With half his leg cleanly cut in the middle of his calf.

It was over in three heartbeats.

No killing. Just finality.

Lucaant stood among the fallen, breath steady, blade glinting once more before he wiped it clean on one guard’s sleeve and slid it back into the sheath at his hip.

Only then did he look back toward Valery, his voice low—calm as ever.

“They’re down. Quiet, no death, like you said” He looked over the one who was laying besides his severed calf."Perhaps not for that one." Lucaant said in a dry tone.

He nodded toward the inner vault, now unguarded.

“Your turn.”

Not a command. A statement of rhythm—his half of the movement complete. Hers next.

The same calm was in his eyes. But deeper now, under it—purpose beginning to form like structure under stormclouds.​