Private Sun and Moon

[Calyx Sundrift]

T R O I T H E -,. L E V E L -2 3 ​

Calyx leaned over the narrow iron balustrade that separated him from the abyss of Troithe’s lower levels. Far below, the crevice shimmered with traffic lights and glowing windows, just barely revealing the distant factory floors. They had once been down there, at least. But Troithe had grown by at least three levels since his last visit. The factories had likely moved upward, closer to the surface, taking the jobs and economic pulse with them. In a few years, Calyx figured, the only ones left down here would be retirees and ghosts.

He pushed off the railing and continued down the promenade of the newly christened Level 23. Neon signs and flickering holograms pulsed from every corner, mascots dancing in a desperate bid for attention. It reminded him more of the chaos of Denon or Nar Shaddaa than Coruscant - which had once been Troithe’s rival. But years of war, corruption, and neglect had changed the Galaxy, even on the Core Worlds. The Galactic Alliance could only hold back so much rot.

Calyx, at least, saw the ecumenopolis for what it was: a city in the midst of an identity-crisis.

And somehow, that made him feel right at home.

A sudden eruption of fast footfalls broke his thoughts. Calyx's eyes shot back to the street as a burly Gran charged past a group of Rodians, breathing hard. The alien glanced back just as he moved into Calyx’s path. “Hey!” But he was too late. The Gran crashed into him, slamming Calyx against the concrete. Pain shot through his elbow as he hit the ground hard. The Gran toppled with him, but only briefly. “Look where you’re going, at least!” Calyx growled, rolling over.

But the Gran was already on his feet, rushing down the promenade again.

In his hand glinted a bright blue identification card.

Calyx patted his pocket. Empty.

“Somebody stop him!”

Acier Moonbound

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Troithe - Level 23

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Equipment:
Training Jumpsuit | Lightsaber | Modified DL-27

Acier had never been so far into the Core before, or the Core at all for that matter. Never had a reason, that and needing to lie low. Regardless, he still didn't have a reason to be in the Deep Core. He wasn't sure what he expected from Troithe, but it was something more. Turns out the system was no different than Bonadan, Nar Shaddaa, or Denon - it just had a fancier coat of paint.

He'd been at a cross-roads for some time now. He'd left Bonadan all that time ago with a mission: to find out who his parents were. So much had changed. So much had happened, around him and to him. Ace had uncovered the identity of his father, his bloodline and that had given him a new sense of identity. Understanding. But there was still more to the mystery, who his mother was and why she left him.

Then there was training with Pisti, leading to a new type of understanding within himself too. He was sharper, stronger, faster but still unfinished. Like a quarter-finished software update.

Ace knew somewhat of who he was, had this incomplete training - the galaxy was his to explore freely. But the question was, what was he to do with this newfound freedom?

“…She’s the reason I stopped surviving and started living.”

As if on cue, the words of Aadihr flashed in his mind. It was something that had stuck with him during their encounter on Denon. In the following months though, amidst all the craziness and chaos - he'd forgotten it. But now? As he reflected everything, he was still in the same place. Except he wasn't surviving anymore, just... drifting. He still wasn't living.

How does someone live?

Cruising through the promenade, Ace was snapped out of his introspection when the sounds of commotion reached his ears. Head whipping in the direction of the noise, he saw a Gran on top of some guy. Looked like one, or both weren't looking where they were going. Ace paid it no mind, it wasn't his problem. He turned to continue on his way, then came the shout:

“Somebody stop him!”

Oh, it was a bump and lift. Core, Rim, everywhere was the same apparently. He sighed, and without thinking, he broke into a sprint after the Gran. The thief was fast, but uncoordinated, like he hadn't planned anything past the lift. Knocking into people, bumping into the railing and other things in his path.

Ace, meanwhile, navigated his way through the crowd that pushed against him - ironically, like some sort of poetic allegory for his life. This time though, he wasn't forcing himself through, he weaved. Maybe it was the training, the Force, his newfound confidence... or maybe all three.

It didn't take long for him to catch up, Pisti's brutal pre-breakfast roadwork routines weren't for nothing. His stamina control was greater, speed grander. When he got close, Ace lunged and slammed the Gran into the ground with full force. He rose to one knee, grabbed the Gran's right arm and twistedit up behind his back.

"Take it from me. There's easier and less risky ways to make credits."

With his free hand, Ace rummaged through the thief's pockets and pulled out the blue ID card. He stood to his full height, rotating his wrist in order to inspect every angle of the card. The name on the ID read 'Calyx Sundrifter'.

The freckle-faced young man glanced at the Gran, still on the floor, shaking with fear. He recognized it all too well. Ace wasn't going to turn him in for this, knowing what it was like, the kind of desperation that makes someone take such a risk. Acier offered the thief a hand, pulling him up when he finally accepted.

"Think of this as a blessing, or a gift from whatever deity you worship." he said "If it hadn't been me, it could've been someone a lot worse. For your sake, learn from this."

Jerking his head forward, Ace gave him the cue to leave. And that he did, vanishing into the sea of people ahead.

Calyx Sundrift