Veyla Krinn
Character
Morning light spilled through the high windows of the forge, catching suspended motes of dust that drifted lazily through the warm air. The heart of the furnace already glowed a deep orange, filling the workshop with a familiar heat that settled comfortably against Veyla's skin. It smelled of coal, hot steel, and well-used oil, scents she had known since childhood.
The forge had always been a place where the rest of the galaxy faded away. Today, however, it felt different.
Upon the central workbench rested two small cloth bundles. Veyla unfolded them with deliberate care, revealing the kyber crystals they had recovered from Oralis Prime. Morning sunlight caught their facets, scattering tiny fragments of color across the scarred wood beneath them. Even after the journey home, she found herself pausing every time she looked at them. They still felt almost unreal.
Around the crystals lay the beginnings of another kind of puzzle. Sheets of flimsi covered with hand-drawn sketches. Measurements written and rewritten in neat script. Cross-sections of locking mechanisms. Telescoping sections for a collapsible haft. Emitter assemblies. Power routing. Balance calculations. She had spent more than one evening refining the design, determined that the weapon should feel less like a conventional lightsaber and more like an evolution of the pike she had carried for years.
Nothing had been built yet. Today was for decisions.
Lengths of phrik and beskar alloys rested neatly beside the anvil, each carefully selected for its purpose. Precision tools waited where she had arranged them the night before. Nothing had been left to chance. If they chose to begin, everything they needed was within reach.
Her fingertips brushed lightly against the larger crystal before she withdrew her hand again.
"Not yet," she murmured with a faint smile.
Some things deserved patience.
Stepping back from the bench, Veyla crossed to the peg beside the forge door where her well-worn leather apron hung waiting. Today she had chosen comfort over ceremony, dressed in a simple linen shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly to her forearms, sturdy dark trousers, and worn leather boots marked by years spent beside a hot forge. It was clothing made for long hours of work rather than battle.
She slipped the apron over her head and fastened it securely behind her waist before taking one final look around the workshop. The furnace burned steadily. The tools were laid out in careful order. Metal waited beside the anvil, and the two kyber crystals rested quietly upon the bench.
Everything was ready.
Now all that remained was waiting for Kallous to arrive.
Kallous
The forge had always been a place where the rest of the galaxy faded away. Today, however, it felt different.
Upon the central workbench rested two small cloth bundles. Veyla unfolded them with deliberate care, revealing the kyber crystals they had recovered from Oralis Prime. Morning sunlight caught their facets, scattering tiny fragments of color across the scarred wood beneath them. Even after the journey home, she found herself pausing every time she looked at them. They still felt almost unreal.
Around the crystals lay the beginnings of another kind of puzzle. Sheets of flimsi covered with hand-drawn sketches. Measurements written and rewritten in neat script. Cross-sections of locking mechanisms. Telescoping sections for a collapsible haft. Emitter assemblies. Power routing. Balance calculations. She had spent more than one evening refining the design, determined that the weapon should feel less like a conventional lightsaber and more like an evolution of the pike she had carried for years.
Nothing had been built yet. Today was for decisions.
Lengths of phrik and beskar alloys rested neatly beside the anvil, each carefully selected for its purpose. Precision tools waited where she had arranged them the night before. Nothing had been left to chance. If they chose to begin, everything they needed was within reach.
Her fingertips brushed lightly against the larger crystal before she withdrew her hand again.
"Not yet," she murmured with a faint smile.
Some things deserved patience.
Stepping back from the bench, Veyla crossed to the peg beside the forge door where her well-worn leather apron hung waiting. Today she had chosen comfort over ceremony, dressed in a simple linen shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly to her forearms, sturdy dark trousers, and worn leather boots marked by years spent beside a hot forge. It was clothing made for long hours of work rather than battle.
She slipped the apron over her head and fastened it securely behind her waist before taking one final look around the workshop. The furnace burned steadily. The tools were laid out in careful order. Metal waited beside the anvil, and the two kyber crystals rested quietly upon the bench.
Everything was ready.
Now all that remained was waiting for Kallous to arrive.
Kallous