Private Steel and Sabers

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Lightsabers

Denon – District 6B, Industrial Blockade Zone

The blast door didn't so much open as it ripped free. A thundering crash echoed down the corridor as the durasteel slab flew inward and slammed into the wall beyond, folding in half from the impact. Smoke billowed out after it, followed by the sharp hum of a lightsaber cutting through the haze like a brand through fog. Valery stepped through.

Her silhouette flared red-gold from the emergency lighting, her jumpsuit singed and boots echoing over shattered glass and rubble. Her saber — brilliant violet, humming with restrained fury — cast a pale glow across the dust-choked corridor. Behind her, a dozen gang enforcers lay in various states of unconsciousness or regret.

Ahead, more were waiting.

Blasterfire erupted from behind overturned crates and fortified makeshift cover — a sudden storm of bolts. Valery didn't hesitate. She moved like a blade unsheathed. A twist of her wrist deflected the first barrage. A spin of her body sent her hair trailing like a comet behind her. She leapt forward, boots hitting the floor in a low crouch, then surged into the fray.

One slash — a weapon cut in half. Another — a brute's chestplate caved inward as he flew backward into a wall. The third never saw her coming until her hand snapped forward, and the Force hit him like a wall. They weren't Sith. Not even soldiers. But these mercs were well-armed, organized, and stubborn. They were guarding something deep in the bowels of the industrial zone — something that wasn't supposed to be here.

Illegal weapons. Possibly experimental.

Possibly worse.

Valery paused only when the final blaster dropped to the floor with a metallic clatter. Her chest rose and fell with sharp, measured breaths. The corridor around her was ruined — smoke drifting through broken overheads, power conduits sparking. She tilted her head, listening through the Force.

More were coming. Of course they were. She turned toward the sealed hatch at the end of the hallway — reinforced, humming with a power source that wasn't standard issue. Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Can't ever be simple," she muttered, stepping toward the door and readying her saber again. The next wave would be stronger. Heavily armed. Probably smarter.

Fine.

She wasn't in the mood for subtle anyway.

Kallan F'lare ​

 

[Kallan F'lare]

Perhaps there was some truth in the idea that the Force often guided those that were receptive to its whispers. What other explanation could there be for how Kallan had ended up in such a place as Denon - a planet covered entirely by a single city. He had only experienced a place like this once before and that was on Coruscant, and that experience had been overwhelming to say the absolute least.

Denon really didn’t seem all that different.

Industrious and overcrowded, with layer upon layer of levels to traverse. He much preferred worlds with open area, where civilization existed but was not rampant and overreaching. The only difference here than on Coruscant was a tension on the edges of his mind, akin to the deep breath of quiet before a storm.

It was that sensation that drove him onward, navigating maze like alleyways and dilapidated structures that lay forgotten in the onwards march of industry. The sound of rushing footsteps and hurried voices came from the distance followed by a very loud crash and boom. The trademark pew pew of blasters being fired reached his ears and the storm in his mind erupted into a maelstrom of power - someone or something in the building ahead had a great deal of power. He broke into a steady jog following the sounds of commotion and fighting up ahead and when he finally broke through the - now smashed open - building, he paused, eyes watching and calculating as a force of of heavily armed mercenaries gathered in the lobby, preparing to charge down the hallway into whatever lay beyond the other threshold.

The feeling of Adrenaline was palpable in the air, so thick that one could almost reach out and slice through. Fear and excitement also lay thickly in the air, almost as a blanket over the adrenaline. It was a sort of euphoric feeling that washed over Kallan. It had been a very long time since he’d felt such combative energies rushing around him, it gave him a little taste of what home had been.

A smile crept upon his face as he slipped behind an unaware mercenary watchman. In one swift motion, he gripped the mercenary with an iron grip, pulling him from his allies and wrenching his blaster free from his grasp - tossing it into the distance with distaste. He much preferred close combat weaponry, not ones that required distance. There was a certain pleasure in defeating an adversary on equal footing.

It seemed fortune favored him, as the mercenary he’d just disabled had carried a small blade of a material he didn’t care to identify - It would serve its purpose.

Now armed, Kallan confidently stepped through the smashed barrier and into the lobby once more, the soldiers having left began their march into the hallways beyond.

He followed at a measured pace, heart racing and energy thrumming beneath his skin. His eyes sparked with excitement as his own power pulsed brightly in the space around him, only detectable by those who could feel such things. His own emotions added fuel to the already burning fire of tangible feeling in the air, and a stoic expression plastered itself upon his face. The face of a soldier, determined and ready for the confrontation he knew was coming.

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Lightsabers

The second wave hit harder.

Blaster bolts ripped down the corridor in a focused salvo, chewing through broken wall panels and kicking sparks from the floor. Valery moved like she'd danced this dance before — saber flashing, boots sliding across debris as she carved a path through the chaos. Two mercs down. A third thrown bodily into the bulkhead with a hard wave of her hand.

And then—

Crash.

Something slammed into her from the side. Not a blast. Not debris. Someone. Valery hit the ground in a roll, instinct snapping to life as she threw her arm up, ready to strike. But the saber didn't ignite. Her eyes narrowed—

—and then widened slightly as she looked up at the source. Tall. Broad. Definitely not a merc. He looked too clean, too controlled. And those eyes? Not panicked like the others — lit with focus, and a spark of something else. Something dangerous. Something interesting. Still sprawled, Valery gave a low, amused exhale and arched a brow.

He wasn't sore on the eyes, that's for sure.

She rose in one fluid motion, brushing off the front of her singed jumpsuit — more for show than anything. Violet light flared again at her side, illuminating her face in soft fire. Jedi, through and through. But her eyes lingered on him just a beat longer than necessary.

"Okay," she said, smirking faintly, "You're definitely not with them. So…" Her saber dipped slightly, the glow casting shadows over her grin.

"Who are you?"

A pause. Her tone dropped just enough to make it clear she wasn't annoyed anymore.

"And if you're planning to keep crashing into me like that, I might need a name first."

Kallan F'lare ​

 

[Kallan F'lare]

Kallan wielded the blade with practised precision, performing a crude and deadly dance of slash and jabs designed to overwhelm enemies with sheer power and assault - he would not leave them an opening to counter his attacks. It also helped that whomever was at the other end of the hall seemed to occupy the majority of the assault force in violent flashes of violet and blaster fire. His approach from the rear was silent and confident, his reflexes aided by his innate connection with the Force. There was no doubt in his ability nor his safety, a true junction between trust in himself and whatever power had favored him with his natural gift with weapons.

There was no emotion coming from the Arkanian as he fought the mercenaries from the rear. He did not feel joy in taking a life nor did he feel guilt. He simply did as nature and self preservation dictated. If he chose not to fight, he was choosing death.

He did not want to die. So, he fought. He fought with a confidence in self and training that paid homage to his younger years, where fear and doubt were driven into the dirt to never rise again. His training had prepared him for this and he allowed his instincts to guide him. He was distinctly aware of his position in relation to the soldiers around him, and he was able to detect their intention with relative ease - resulting in a battle awareness that superseded normalcy.

Though his actions were crude and aggressive, his movements were graceful and elegant, dancing deftly around blaster bolts and incoming weapon slashes. He was not perfect, however, and for those that he was unable to dodge, his armorweave cloak took the brunt of blasterfire and his clothing took hits from melee weapons that just barely made it beyond his defences.

However, as talented a warrior as he was, he was not always aware of everything. He felt the intention too late, and winced as he felt a force collide with his back and toss him several feet through the air and into something... soft. There were many things that he imagined being thrown into and he had willed himself into a loosened form so as to lessen the impact of whatever hard surface he was going to come in contact with, however he would not have expected to be thrown into someone else.

He rolled as he collided and ended on his knees, before rising swiftly and eyeing whomever, or whatever, he had collided with. His eyes betrayed no emotion as he gazed over the woman in veiled thought. His eyes danced over her jumpsuit and centered on the lightsaber she gripped.

She is no stranger to wielding that weapon. he commented internally as the blade ignited and cast the both of them in a violet glow. He should have been surprised to find another Jedi so soon after leaving Coruscant, but truthfully, he was not. He had run into several Jedi since his departure, it seemed that they were more prevalent than originally he had thought or believed.

Who are you? she asked him. Followed by another remark, And if you're planning to keep crashing into me like that , I might need a name first.

"Kallan is my name, Jedi." he offered with a neutral tone, ".. and you had best prepare - another wave is coming." he offered in finality as he took a defensive stance at the sound of footsteps echoing from the destroyed hallway amidst the alarm.

Valery Noble