Character
Coruscant never slept. It flickered.
From the upper balconies of the mid-level districts, the planet-city looked like a circuit board stretched to the horizon, towers pulsing in orderly rhythms of wealth and power. But Aurelia Veyr stood three thousand meters below that elegance, where the light stuttered and the air tasted metallic, and felt the city watching her back.
They were close.
Not because she saw them. Not yet. But because the Force pressed differently tonight. Thin. Searching. Like fingers combing through fabric.
Mercenaries.
Three confirmed signatures earlier near the transit rails. One with cybernetic dampeners. One Force-blind but methodical. One she could not read at all.
That was the one that bothered her.
Aurelia kept her hood low as she stepped through the drizzle of condensation falling from overhead traffic lanes. Her long red hair was braided tight against her spine, no loose strands to identify her. Her green eyes scanned reflections instead of faces. Reflections told the truth. Faces lied.
A flicker in the transparisteel of a vendor stall.
There.
The same broad silhouette from two districts back.
She didn't run.
Running spiked her pulse. Spiking her pulse invited the Force to surge. Surges drew attention. Attention caused bleeding.
Instead, she adjusted course naturally, turning into a narrow stairwell that spiraled downward into the undercity lodging quarter.
Her comm vibrated once in her sleeve.
A text-only ping.
Room secured. Payment doubled. No refunds.
Of course it was doubled.
Her contact, Virek Tal, dealt in disappearances. He charged according to desperation. Tonight, she must have felt very expensive.
She slipped inside the lodge without looking back.
From the upper balconies of the mid-level districts, the planet-city looked like a circuit board stretched to the horizon, towers pulsing in orderly rhythms of wealth and power. But Aurelia Veyr stood three thousand meters below that elegance, where the light stuttered and the air tasted metallic, and felt the city watching her back.
They were close.
Not because she saw them. Not yet. But because the Force pressed differently tonight. Thin. Searching. Like fingers combing through fabric.
Mercenaries.
Three confirmed signatures earlier near the transit rails. One with cybernetic dampeners. One Force-blind but methodical. One she could not read at all.
That was the one that bothered her.
Aurelia kept her hood low as she stepped through the drizzle of condensation falling from overhead traffic lanes. Her long red hair was braided tight against her spine, no loose strands to identify her. Her green eyes scanned reflections instead of faces. Reflections told the truth. Faces lied.
A flicker in the transparisteel of a vendor stall.
There.
The same broad silhouette from two districts back.
She didn't run.
Running spiked her pulse. Spiking her pulse invited the Force to surge. Surges drew attention. Attention caused bleeding.
Instead, she adjusted course naturally, turning into a narrow stairwell that spiraled downward into the undercity lodging quarter.
Her comm vibrated once in her sleeve.
A text-only ping.
Room secured. Payment doubled. No refunds.
Of course it was doubled.
Her contact, Virek Tal, dealt in disappearances. He charged according to desperation. Tonight, she must have felt very expensive.
She slipped inside the lodge without looking back.
The building called itself The Luminous Rest. It was neither luminous nor restful.
Dim amber wall strips fought against mildew stains and decades of unreported violence. The air smelled like recycled breath and old coolant. But it had something far more valuable than comfort.
Privacy.
The door sealed behind her with a mechanical hiss. No biometric scans. No ID logs tied to the Temple network. Just a manual bolt and an outdated security grid she could scramble herself.
She exhaled.
Too deeply.
Pain lanced behind her ribs.
The Force had been riding her nerves for hours, restless, curious. Being hunted did that. Fear around her sharpened everything. It wanted release. It always wanted release.
Aurelia leaned her forehead against the cool metal wall and counted backward from fifty.
Forty-nine.
Forty-eight.
Her veins flickered faint gold beneath her skin, visible for only a second before she forced the current down. The Veyr Conduit rested at her hip, humming softly. Regulating. Bleeding excess into harmless dispersion.
She did not touch it.
Not yet.
Dim amber wall strips fought against mildew stains and decades of unreported violence. The air smelled like recycled breath and old coolant. But it had something far more valuable than comfort.
Privacy.
The door sealed behind her with a mechanical hiss. No biometric scans. No ID logs tied to the Temple network. Just a manual bolt and an outdated security grid she could scramble herself.
She exhaled.
Too deeply.
Pain lanced behind her ribs.
The Force had been riding her nerves for hours, restless, curious. Being hunted did that. Fear around her sharpened everything. It wanted release. It always wanted release.
Aurelia leaned her forehead against the cool metal wall and counted backward from fifty.
Forty-nine.
Forty-eight.
Her veins flickered faint gold beneath her skin, visible for only a second before she forced the current down. The Veyr Conduit rested at her hip, humming softly. Regulating. Bleeding excess into harmless dispersion.
She did not touch it.
Not yet.