Faction The Nightfall Affair I: Secrets of the Amaxine Vault

[Czebin Sonruuj]

/:/ Tag: Sela Basran Meri Vale ( Nearby )
__________________________________________________________________________​

Vonto had walked quite a while down the south tunnel but arrived at the last pressure bulkhead prior to the reactor sub-levels and ultimately the power core. There, he could gain a clearer insight into the facility by observing its power network and tracing those lines to the Vault, and if things went well a large reward from the Guildmaster.

Although he was stopped in his tracks by a massive durasteel door that was malfunctioning, stuck at a quarter of an inch, he could peer through the tiny gap in the door to the corridor beyond. There, it expanded into a large antechamber, lit only by the blue emergency strips and the occasional flicker of arcing conduits.

"If I was a hidden terminal...where would I be." The Duros muttered quietly, his gaze sweeping the wall in search of a concealed lever. However, a thought struck him: if he were to hide a terminal from someone, he would likely do so in plain view.

What better method to conceal a working terminal than to disguise it beneath a non-functional one? For instance, he carefully removed the durasteel cover from the terminal, revealing a secondary one underneath, this time with all its wires properly connected and powered up on the network. Before he had a chance to fiddle with the machine the soft barely auditable footsteps of Connel Vanagor drew closer.

Hands swiftly reached for the holsters hidden beneath the jacket, smoothly drawing out a pair of Compact Pistols with Electrified Bayonets in a cross-draw motion, thumbs adjusting the power selectors just one notch above the standard setting.

Instead, he set them to what the old smugglers referred to as the scream setting: output increased by thirty percent, the sound of the muzzle enhanced through specially tuned acoustic baffles, and the discharge flash intensified to nearly blinding levels. The weapons would produce the sound of repeating cannons, appear like repeating cannons, and most crucially illuminate the corridor like the dramatic entrance of a villain in a holodrama.

"End of the line, my secret admirer" Vonto's lips curled back in a manner that was not entirely a smile. He pulled both triggers in quick succession, unleashing a torrent of blaster fire into the corridor. The sound was like thunderclaps in the enclosed space, bouncing off alloy walls and durasteel ribs until the entire corridor rang with overlapping echoes.

Each shot lit the corridor in violent strobing crimson: flash on his crimson eyes, flash on the scarred ridges of his face, flash on the twin muzzles spitting fire. For three heartbeats he became a silhouette burned into negative space tall, lean, implacable, a red-eyed specter wreathed in muzzle flare and gunsmoke.

 

[Connel Vanagor]

FINDERS OF A MISPLACED VAULT
MERIDIAN
VAULT

Omega Squad Every Day Gear Locations

• Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel, Raguel
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  Rides
  "Enterprise" Station Ship
  Null Vector
  Speederbike
  Iron Psalm
  Gear/Armor
  Gear(“Bodycam” Datapad, UAD Drone, and Nanotech included)
  Lightblaster
  Shortsabers (“Night” and “Day”)
  Throwing Lightknives
  Force Blinding Flashbangs
  SURGICAL - CRYBERNETIC IMPLANTS
  Repli Implants that would be for the limbs
  Bonemer enhancements to strengthen structure of the body
  Muscle enhancements.
  Hemo enhancements for blood flow
  Hawkeye implants for eyes
  Advanced Medical Implant
  Scentzy
  Injected Nanotech upgrades
  
  
  
• Shadow Sanctuary - Enterprise

The pulse deepened beneath the decking. Connel felt it before he saw the door. The corridor widened slightly as it approached the bulkhead — a heavy durasteel slab frozen half-closed, leaving only a thin seam of light spilling across the floor like a blade.

He slowed.

The machine’s rhythm was stronger here. Power conduits ran thick along the walls, faint blue current flowing through them in steady intervals. Reactor proximity. He crouched slightly as he approached the door, eyes scanning the seam. Something had been disturbed here. The panel beside the door hung open.

Recently.

Too recently.

His hand drifted toward the hilt at his back—

“End of the line, my secret admirer.”

Thunder erupted.
Blasterfire tore through the narrow gap in a strobing avalanche of crimson light. The corridor exploded with sound. The first bolt struck the wall inches from his shoulder, molten durasteel spraying outward like sparks from a forge. The next carved a glowing line across the deck where his boot had been half a heartbeat earlier. Connel moved. Not back.

Forward.

The moment the first bolt flashed he had already pivoted, dropping low and rolling across the corridor floor as the next barrage slammed into the wall behind him. The scream-tuned blasters filled the tunnel with cannon-like thunder, each flash burning the Duros’s silhouette into the dark like a holodrama villain stepping from smoke.

Red eyes.

Twin pistols.

Controlled fire.

Professional.

Connel slid behind a thick coolant conduit just as another volley tore past. The pipe shuddered under the impacts, hot fragments of durasteel clattering across the floor around him.

He drew “Day”.

The Sovereign Gold blade ignited with a sharp crack of ambient energy that cut through the muzzle flashes like a second lightning storm. Not to charge. To see. The blade’s glow revealed the seam in the bulkhead and the shape beyond it — the Duros braced behind the narrow gap, pistols extended through the opening like fangs.

Clever.

Narrow field of fire.

Hard cover.

And the scream setting meant the corridor itself was working for him — noise, flash, confusion. Another volley hammered toward him. Connel angled the blade. Two bolts deflected upward into the ceiling. One skipped sideways and detonated against the wall.

The fourth clipped the edge of the conduit beside him and burst into a spray of molten fragments that rattled across his armor. He exhaled slowly. Annoyance flickered across his thoughts.

Not anger.

Just that same cold irritation from earlier. You again, he muttered under the thunder of the pistols. The vault pulsed. Besh phase beginning somewhere nearby. Heavy actuators groaned deep within the walls as the facility began sealing sections behind them.

Connel watched the rhythm of the blaster fire. Not the man. The pattern. Three shots. Half-beat pause. Two shots.

Flash.

Flash.

Flash— He smiled faintly. Then he moved. Not charging the door. Instead he stepped sideways and slammed his free hand against the exposed terminal panel beside the bulkhead. The vault reacted instantly. The power grid surged as the phase shift redistributed current through the section. The damaged door motor spasmed under the sudden load.

With a violent metallic scream the bulkhead lurched another six inches open. Just enough to change the geometry of the fight. Just enough to break the Duros’s perfect firing lane.
Connel stepped into the widening gap, golden blade snapping up to catch the next bolt in a spray of sparks. Across the threshold the Duros stood framed in flickering emergency lights, pistols still blazing.

Red eyes.

Twin guns.

And a grin that said he was enjoying this. Connel tilted his head slightly. You know, he said calmly over the echoing thunder of the corridor, I was hoping it was you.

The vault pulsed again.

And now they were both inside the machine’s heart.

Sela Basran • Meri Vale • @Nyl Shar'synda • Andromeda Demir

Personal Effects - Omega Squad Loadouts​

 

[Sela Basran]

THE MERIDIAN VAULT
GARAGE ENTRY
​

The vault reshaped itself as they watched. Doors shut, shutters closed, bridges retracted overhead, gantries swung back into default positions. Ahead, the droids patrolled near the singular exit to the north. Doorways occasionally interrupted the walls on left and right -- or what looked like doorways. They might have been alcoves or dark crates that Sela wasn't able to clearly distinguish in the dim light.

The rhythm of the power was different. It felt more intense now. "I think we can leave the gallery to anyone in it for the time being," Sela said, reaching out into the Force for a sense of it. "Which is, for the moment, no one. But if you see anything that might be of use to them, do not keep it to yourself. Your instincts are good. I think we may need to rely on them. Stay to the shadows for the moment. I am going to see to these droids. I do not think we can pass them unnoticed."

She darted forward, keeping to the shadows between the rusted out hulks of vehicles. The best bet would be to get the jump on them before they had a chance to react. If she could disrupt their ability to communicate with the rest of the facility, in theory she could stop them from increasing the security posture deeper in the vault.

The older woman crept along, hugging one wall that had become shadowed by a disused tarp, slipping between it and the wall, allowing it to cover her as it gently breezed in the cycling air like a banner. Her footfalls were deceptively silent for a woman of her age. People wouldn't know that about her; for as much as she looked like someone's slightly befuddled old auntie, Sela Basran was not to be trifled with.

The end of the makeshift tunnel made by the tarp was approaching and Sela paused, peering out. She opened herself up to the Force, trying to sense the droids. She sensed energy shifts more than the presence of the droids themselves, but that was enough. When the hole in the patrol presented itself, Sela darted through the tunnel exit and behind a crumbling wall against which a trio of heavy, industrial shelves had dominoed before coming to an uneasy resting place. Sela shifted, moved -- and her foot caught on a bracket that had been buried in the sand. She winced, jerked, landed hard against the wall.

It wasn't much, but it was enough. The disturbance caused the last vestiges of strength in the crumbling wall to give. Sela sensed it before she heard it, threw herself out of the way with more vigor than grace, ending up in a flexible crouch. And since the shelves were a more immediate danger to her than the security droids, she hadn't calculated where they had been in the moment, so they were looking directly at her.

"HALT!" the droid bellowed, its voice all sharp angles and computer, garbled by age and sand in speakers, as it pointed its staff at her. The other droid raised its blaster and immediately began to fire.

Sela's lightsaber was in her hand before the first droid spoke, its verdant green plasma blade snap-hissing to life, efficient as you please, before the second droid fired its first shot. She easily deflected the first volley, though not back to the droid. She reached into the Force, gave the blaster a yank with it. The droid's grip was too sure, but it struggled on sand as much as anyone else, and the change in inertia sent it to the ground, and it busied itself getting back on its feet.

Meanwhile, the droid with the staff came in range, sending a wicked thrust at Sela's middle. The Jedi Master turned, used her blade to slice through the staff -- no, not cut through, since it was phrik. Instead, sparks flew and it acted as a parry before Sela riposted a hard slash at the droid's shoulder. The machines were reinforced -- armored, almost -- but building them entirely out of phrik would have been cost-prohibitive. The blow sizzled through a quarter inch of armor before the droid swung again, catching Sela on the thigh with a thud. The Jedi Master grunted and drew her blade back, using both hands to make an exaggerated push, summoning the Force to give her movement authority and weight. The staff-droid make a comical squawking sound as it was lifted from the ground and flung into the remains of a truck behind it.

The other droid had managed to get to one knee, and was bringing its blaster to bear on her. Sela lunged, sliced through the blaster, rendering it useless. The droid didn't get the memo, kept pulling the trigger, until -- with a rising whine of protest -- the power back rapidly overheated and burst. Sela had turned, prepared to move, but not quickly enough. Superheated plasma exploded, and despite her best effort to shield, she felt painful burns in her back where small bits of debris had bitten through her cloak and tunic, leaving half a dozen cigarette-burn-sized holes with matching burns beneath them.

Not ideal.

Not life-threatening.

Sela turned; the droid was mostly slag now, and it wasn't moving. Good. She turned to the other droid, which was trying to free itself from the wreckage of the truck. The Jedi Master seized the Force, gathered it and with some exertion folded the rusted metal of the truck around the droid, trapping it there. When she approached, its legs were still kicking. Sela needed to disable its motivator, to stop it from communicating with the vault, if it hadn't already. She cut through the truck, finding the droid's head, and let the plasma of her blade do its work, until the noises the droid made died and its feet stopped kicking. It was well and truly lobotomized, then.

Panting with the exertion of it all, Sela deactivated her blade and turned back to Meri Vale . She raised a hand and called in a voice as loud as she dared -- really a stage whisper -- "I think it is safe now. Come. The cycle is coming and I want us to get through this next door."

Meri Vale | Vonto Slim | Connel Vanagor | Reid Brimarch

​

 

[Czebin Sonruuj]

/:/ Tag: Sela Basran Meri Vale ( Nearby )
__________________________________________________________________________​

Vonto's smile grew more pronounced as the bulkhead screeched open another half-meter, aided by Connel Vanagor . It was wider than necessary, but just enough for him to kick the secondary terminal with his boot to fully open the chamber as the durasteel slab groaned in protest as its ancient servos grinded against centuries of rust and neglect.

Blue emergency lighting illuminated the chamber as the Duros swiftly repositioned himself, pivoting on his heel. His wide-brimmed hat reflected the light from a shadowy corner of the room while he holstered his right pistol with a practiced snap. Meanwhile, his left hand remained poised, the vambrace softly humming with stored with many surprises.

He noticed the slightly charred armor the man had on; the singed edges confirmed his suspicion that he was being followed, and it was now clear that it was a Jedi...a troublesome group of monks who always seemed to disrupt the lives of respectable mercenaries like him.

"If you're after an autograph, kid, I'm all out of those," Vonto remarked with a sigh, pressing a button on the vambrace's trigger plate.

A hiss. A plume.

The Undergauntlet Integrated Droid Carbonite Emitter spat a wide arc of freezing mist, not aimed at the Jedi but at the space between them. It hit the deck with a crystalline crackle, expanding rapidly into a jagged barrier two meters high, irregular spikes jutting like frozen thorns. Opaque gray, it shimmered under the blue lights, blocking direct line of sight while the vault's humid air fed the freeze, thickening it by the second.

Not impenetrable but enough to give Vonto the breath he needed.

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri had remained exactly where Sela had instructed, tucked deep into the safety of the shadows. From her vantage point, half-hidden behind the rusted, skeletal flank of an ancient vehicle, she watched the gallery above them begin to shift with a tired, mechanical reluctance. The bridges withdrew in a heavy, staggered motion, catwalks folding back into the stone walls like limbs being drawn inward. Automatically, her mind began to map the sequence: the left span first, then the central crosspiece, all moving in a distinct northbound progression.

The rhythm vibrating beneath her boots felt stronger now, pulsing with a deep, resonant thrum as if the building's mechanical lungs had finally started working in earnest. When Sela eventually moved, Meri did not immediately follow; instead, she remained still, her eyes tracking the older woman's careful progress through the treacherous maze of scrap and shadow. When the wall began to crumble, the sudden, grinding roar of the collapse made Meri's shoulders tense long before the dust had even settled.

The droid's voice, cold and authoritative, sliced through the chamber with a single command: HALT.

The blaster fire that followed was a violent explosion of light, bright enough to paint the entire room in a searing shade of crimson for a terrifying instant. Meri flinched instinctively, ducking lower behind the vehicle's metal frame with one hand gripping the rusted edge so tightly that her knuckles turned a stark, bloodless white. She didn't scream or run, but her heart hammered against her ribs as she tried to make sense of the chaos—the sharp whine of blaster bolts striking metal, the distinctive snap-hiss of Sela's lightsaber, and the heavy, bone-jarring crash of machinery being thrown across the room.

Through the din, Meri forced herself to listen the way she would study a building settling after an earthquake: identifying the structure first, then the motion, and finally, the silence. When the sharp crack of the overheated blaster echoed off the walls, she squeezed her eyes shut for a jagged half-second, and when she opened them, she found Sela still standing while the droid was nothing more than a ruined heap.

Exhaling a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, Meri rose carefully from her hiding spot. Her boots crunched softly in the thin layer of sand as she moved toward her companion, her gaze already sweeping the room to confirm what her ears were already telling her. The vault was shifting again, and a deeper, more ominous mechanical groan was beginning to roll through the foundations.

"The power is building again," she said quietly, her voice low and urgent as she reached Sela's side. "It's the same pattern as before, but the cycle is moving faster now. If the next phase seals this section, we might find ourselves trapped without a way to force the doors back open."

Her eyes flicked briefly toward the ceiling, where the next section of catwalk was already beginning its retraction, but then her focus dropped to the dark, angry burns on Sela's back. A flash of sincere concern crossed her face, momentarily overriding her technical focus. "Are you hurt badly?" she asked softly. Even as the question left her lips, her attention was already splitting: listening intently for the next shift in pressure and the grinding of hidden gears that would signal exactly how much time they had left before the building reshaped itself once more.

Sela Basran Andromeda Demir Connel Vanagor Reid Brimarch

 

[Connel Vanagor]

FINDERS OF A MISPLACED VAULT
MERIDIAN
VAULT

Omega Squad Every Day Gear Locations

• Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel, Raguel
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  Rides
  
  • "Enterprise" Station Ship
  • Null Vector
  • Speederbike
  • Iron Psalm
  Gear/Armor
  
  
  • Gear(“Bodycam” Datapad, UAD Drone, and Nanotech included)
  • Lightblaster
  • Shortsabers (“Night” and “Day”)
  • Throwing Lightknives
  • Force Blinding Flashbangs
  SURGICAL - CRYBERNETIC IMPLANTS
  
  • Repli Implants that would be for the limbs
  • Bonemer enhancements to strengthen structure of the body
  • Muscle enhancements.
  • Hemo enhancements for blood flow
  • Hawkeye implants for eyes
  • Advanced Medical Implant
  • Scentzy
  • Injected Nanotech upgrades
• Shadow Sanctuary - Enterprise

The hiss of freezing propellant rolled across the chamber.

Connel watched the carbonite plume bloom outward as the emitter struck the floor. The reaction was immediate. Frost spider-webbed across the decking, erupting into jagged grey spines that grew upward in a chaotic wall between them.

A barrier.

Not permanent.

But effective.

The carbonite thickened as it touched the humid air, crystallizing into an opaque barricade that swallowed the Duros from view. For a moment the chamber was quiet again except for the deep mechanical pulse of the vault. Cresh fading. Aurek returning.

Connel lowered his blade slightly, Golden light washing over the frost wall. He exhaled. This man was good.

Very good.

Flamethrower. Misdirection. Sound traps. Blinding muzzle theatrics. Carbonite barrier. Every move bought him seconds. Seconds were currency in places like this. But the Force whispered something else now. Not from the Duros. From above. Other presences moving through the vault.

Jedi.

Closer than they should be. The thought made his jaw tighten. Not fear. Something older. Vanagor instinct. His father had called it vigilance. Other Jedi had called it paranoia. Connel simply called it responsibility. He tilted his head slightly toward the frost barrier.

Alright, he said quietly.

Not to the Duros. To the situation. The Force flowed outward. Not violently. Not like a hammer. Like pressure. He extended his hand toward the carbonite wall. And instead of shattering it—

He pulled.

The vault responded instantly.

The nearby coolant conduits groaned as the Force nudged them just enough to fracture the brittle carbonite where it met the heated deck plating. Thermal tension spread through the frozen barrier like cracks across lake ice. A sharp CRACK snapped through the chamber. Then another. The carbonite spikes shuddered. And collapsed sideways in a brittle avalanche of frozen shards.

Not toward Connel.

Toward the Duros.

At the same moment Connel reached out again, this time not to the barrier but to the bulkhead door motor beside it. The ancient servos screamed. The door lurched fully open with a grinding roar that echoed through the chamber. No more narrow corridor. No more cover geometry. The entire antechamber was exposed now.

Blue emergency lights flickered across the room as carbonite fragments skittered across the floor like shattered glass. Connel stepped forward through the drifting frost mist.

His blade hummed softly at his side, the reverse grip like a menacing spike coming out of his arm. Not raised. Not threatening.

Just ready.

He looked toward where the Duros had repositioned. You’re good, he said evenly. No sarcasm. Just acknowledgment.

Then his eyes shifted briefly toward the ceiling as he felt the other Jedi presences approaching through the vault corridors. His gaze returned to the Duros.

But we’re finished buying time. The Force tightened subtly around the chamber. Not crushing.

Just… present.

Like gravity had increased by a fraction. Enough that the Duros would feel it. Enough to remind him that this had been a game of seconds. And the seconds had run out.

Connel lifted his blade slightly in front of him. Your move.

Sela Basran • Meri Vale • @Nyl Shar'synda • Andromeda Demir

Personal Effects - Omega Squad Loadouts​

 

[Czebin Sonruuj]

/:/ Tag: Sela Basran Meri Vale ( Nearby )
__________________________________________________________________________​

Vonto's smile faded a bit when Connel Vanagor effortlessly shattered the carbonite wall, causing shards to cascade sideways like an avalanche directed right at him. With barely a moment to spare, he threw himself behind the closest support pillar. The durasteel column took the brunt of the hit, with some parts embedding into it with muted thuds, while others burst apart into sparkling dust that scattered across the deck around his feet.

A few grazed his protective jacket, slicing shallow depressions that stung like ice burns, but nothing vital. He pressed his back flat against the cold metal, breath steady, crimson eyes darting for the next play.

The antechamber was fully open now, the bulkhead retracted as the blue lights stuttered overhead, casting shadows as frost mist swirled in the humid air. Vonto felt the subtle press of... something. Gravity? The air itself? It weighed on his shoulders, a nagging reminder that this wasn't just a human with a glowstick, it was a Jedi, bending the rules of the universe to his whim.

He looked toward where the Duros had repositioned. You’re good, he said evenly. No sarcasm. Just acknowledgment.

Vonto's thin lips twisted under the brim of his hat. Compliments from a monk. How touching.

He peeked the edge of the pillar, pistol still in his left hand, vambrace humming with untapped options. The Jedi stood there, blade humming low in a reverse grip, golden light cutting through the mist like a beacon. Above, his sharp hearing caught the faint echoes of more boots and voices filtering down from the upper corridors of the Vault.

Like gravity had increased by a fraction. Enough that the Duros would feel it. Enough to remind him that this had been a game of seconds. And the seconds had run out.

Connel lifted his blade slightly in front of him. Your move.

Vonto exhaled through his nostrils, mind slicing through variables like a vibro-blade through plasteel. Direct shot? Deflected. Charge? Suicide. The catwalks below beckoned, suspended over the reactor abyss, leading to the spines and the terminal he needed. But to get there, he'd need another distraction. Something bigger than carbonite or blaster theatrics.

"You haven't seen all my tricks" Vonto rasped, voice carrying just enough to taunt. "Let me teach you something."

A single tap of a button on his vambrace was enough to activate his Rocket Boots, propelling himself into the high rafters of the chamber. He seized the railing to pull himself up, then unleashed a barrage of covering fire with the pistol in his hand.

 

[Connel Vanagor]

FINDERS OF A MISPLACED VAULT
MERIDIAN
VAULT

Omega Squad Every Day Gear Locations

• Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel, Raguel
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  Rides
  
  • "Enterprise" Station Ship
  • Null Vector
  • Speederbike
  • Iron Psalm
  Gear/Armor
  
  
  • Gear(“Bodycam” Datapad, UAD Drone, and Nanotech included)
  • Lightblaster
  • Shortsabers (“Night” and “Day”)
  • Throwing Lightknives
  • Force Blinding Flashbangs
  SURGICAL - CRYBERNETIC IMPLANTS
  
  • Repli Implants that would be for the limbs
  • Bonemer enhancements to strengthen structure of the body
  • Muscle enhancements.
  • Hemo enhancements for blood flow
  • Hawkeye implants for eyes
  • Advanced Medical Implant
  • Scentzy
  • Injected Nanotech upgrades
  
  
  
• Shadow Sanctuary - Enterprise

The rocket boots ignited with a sharp roar.

Vonto shot upward toward the rafters, coat flaring behind him as his hand caught the rail. The moment his boots cleared the edge the pistol came up again, crimson bolts hammering downward into the chamber.

Thunder cracked through the room. Flash. Flash. Flash.

Connel didn’t move immediately.

The bolts screamed toward him—and slowed. Not dramatically. Not visibly enough for anyone watching from afar to call it sorcery.

Just enough.

The air in front of him thickened under the quiet pressure of the Force. Blaster bolts bent slightly off their line, splashing against the deck and the reactor conduits behind him in bright bursts of molten light. One DID hit him in the shoulder, and the impact stung, but it did not move him.

He stood there, one hand raised loosely, “Day” angled(reverse grip) low in the other.

Almost casual.

Another bolt struck the invisible pressure field and deflected into the floor beside him with a crack. He tilted his head slightly. Sure, Connel replied calmly over the thunder of the pistol.

Just let me know when you have something to teach. A flash lit the rafters again. The Duros silhouette danced across the metal above, hat brim catching the emergency lighting like a knife edge.

Connel studied the pattern.

Rocket thrust. Balance shift. Three shots. Reposition. Professional. But predictable.

You asked earlier, Connel added, voice steady as another volley hissed past his shoulder. If I wanted an autograph...

He glanced up toward the rafters. Still deciding if it matters, I don't even know who you are..

His free hand moved to his chest harness. A small cylinder slipped between his fingers. The lightknife ignited with a sharp white spark as he flicked it into motion. He didn’t throw it straight. He threw it wide. The blade spun across the chamber like a skipping stone of light—

—and then the Force caught it.

Mid-flight. The trajectory bent sharply upward. Not toward the Duros. Toward the rocket boot. The blade streaked toward the thruster assembly with surgical precision. If his aim was true, Slim could still counter or dodge, it was not a feint, but it was not all he was doing.

Connel moved at the same moment.

Two quick strides carried him to the wall beside the bulkhead. His cybernetics answered the impulse instantly. Boot hit durasteel. One step. Two—

Then he kicked off the wall, vaulting sideways across the chamber as another burst of blasterfire tore through the space he’d occupied, Slim had the high ground. Why WOULDN’T he use it?

Midair, Connel’s hand snapped forward.

A short, compact Lightblaster barked once in reply.

Not a barrage.

Just a single answering shot.

Across the chamber, the vault’s power pulse rolled through the structure again, emergency lights flickering as Aurek phase surged into the section.

Connel landed lightly, blade humming in his reverse grip, holstering his Lightblaster. He looked up toward the rafters again. You like theatrics, he called up.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. I can work with that.

Above them the maintenance chamber vibrated as the reactor systems cycled deeper into the vault. And somewhere overhead—

The faint sound of other Jedi moving through the corridors grew closer.

The game was changing.

And Vonto Slim was starting to learn that the man below him wasn’t just another monk with a glowstick. Either way, he would not come out of here with anything other than his health… unless he pushed his luck further.

Sela Basran • Meri Vale • @Nyl Shar'synda • Andromeda Demir

Personal Effects - Omega Squad Loadouts​

 

[Sela Basran]

​

"Hmmm?" asked the older woman, turning her gaze back toward Meri Vale , dark eyebrows furrowing. "Hurt? Oh -- that," she said. The adrenaline slowly faded, allowing Sela to feel the stinging pricks where the plasma had burned through her cloak and tunic. "No, dear, I am quite well, thank you. It is -- as they say -- merely a flesh wound." She drew on the Force, let it envelope her, providing a kind of euhporic boon as she used it to salve her wounds. It would do until they were back to civilization.

"Yes, I sense it as well," she concurred with Meri. "I am concerned that if it continues to speed up, we may not be able to get through at all." Her dark eyes softened as she considered the risks. To be entombed in the vault forever, perhaps, was the worst case -- worse, even, than being killed by the droids because at least dying to the droids would be fast. But as they progressed through the facility, things might become even more unstable -- or they could find a solution. "Perhaps there is a way to keep the door open. Stand back, please."

The Jedi Master reached into the Force and leveraged it to pull the industrial shelves that had nearly crushed her toward them. Using the Force, she lifted two of the heavy metal shelves and waited until the power cycled, causing the door to open. With much concentration, she maneuvered one shelf into each end of the opening with the idea being that the metal shelving could brace the door open -- leaving room for Meri to escape if she felt she needed to. Sela had barely gotten the second in place when the power cycled again, and the door slammed shut.

Or tried to.

The metal shelves groaned, but held. After a moment, the hydraulics errored out and disengaged, the door going slack.

"Well... that is something," Sela said to Meri. "I am going through, but you must decide whether it is worth the risk to you. Do not feel obliged one way or another. I will keep you safe if I can." The Jedi Master dabbed some sweat from her forehead -- manipulating two very heavy shelves with such precision was, after all, hard work -- and then turned and stepped over the threshold into the facility. It looked like a broad central corridor, with doorways on either side. She paused at the first set; on the left, what looked like a security checkpoint, now abandoned. On the right, a small barracks, bunk beds in varying states of topple.

What a curious place.

Meri Vale | Connel Vanagor | Vonto Slim

​

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri stood in the shadows of the threshold, watching with a mixture of reverence and analytical detachment as Sela reached out with the Force to drag the heavy shelving units across the floor. The sound of metal screeching against the grit-covered durasteel was jarring, a sharp, abrasive protest that made her wince, yet she retreated precisely when instructed, ensuring the Jedi Master had every inch of clearance she required.

While Sela worked with the invisible, Meri's mind was occupied with the tangible; her eyes tracked the structural load of the maneuver, calculating the weight of the durasteel, the angle of the brace, and the inevitable compression that would occur once the room's automated systems attempted to fight back. When the door finally lunged forward, trying to slam shut only to be caught by the makeshift wedge, Meri leaned in with an engineer's focus, watching the way the shelving frame flexed under the immense pressure before the hydraulics gave way with a final, defeated hiss of escaping steam.

"The shelving is doing an excellent job of distributing the mechanical pressure across the entire frame of the doorway," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the hum of the facility as she processed the data in real-time. "If the structure manages to hold steady through at least one more door-cycle, it should theoretically remain open long enough for someone to pass through safely, at least until the internal motor attempts a hard reset or the metal reaches its ultimate breaking point."

Despite the logic of her assessment, she couldn't hide the slight tremor of uncertainty that flickered across her face as she looked at the warped metal of the door. When Sela offered her the chance to stay behind, Meri's hesitation was brief, her boots vibrating as the vault pulsed again, a deep, rhythmic thud that felt like the heartbeat of a dying giant. The air in the corridor was noticeably warmer, thick with the recycled, stagnant heat of systems that had been running far too hot for far too long.

"If that door collapses under the strain of the next pulse, it won't just be an inconvenience; it will seal this entire section off with enough force to fuse the plates together," she said quietly, her eyes lifting to meet Sela's with a look of somber resolve. "I think I should stay close to you, Master Sela, because I'd rather be on the side of the door that has a way out and because you might need someone who knows how to talk to these machines if they decide to stop listening."

It wasn't a choice born of reckless bravery, but rather the cold, practical logic of a girl who had spent her life understanding that in a failing facility, isolation was often the first step toward a permanent end. She stepped carefully over the threshold, her movements light and deliberate as she entered the corridor, her gaze immediately darting across the dark interior to map the layout of the security checkpoint and the barracks beyond.

"The layout of these rooms suggests they were designed for long-term habitation by a full security complement, which means this was never intended to be a simple, temporary installation," she observed, her voice echoing softly against the durasteel walls as she followed half a step behind the Jedi. "And looking at the way the bunks have been toppled and the personal effects were left behind, it seems like whatever happened here forced them to abandon their posts with almost no warning at all."

As the vault pulsed once more, sending a fresh wave of heat through the hallway, Meri paused for a fraction of a second to gauge the rhythm of the machinery before moving deeper into the facility, staying tucked within the comfort of Sela's shadow.

Connel Vanagor Vonto Slim Sela Basran

 

[Czebin Sonruuj]

/:/ Tag: Sela Basran Meri Vale ( Nearby )
__________________________________________________________________________​

Vonto felt the heat of the deflected blaster bolts lick past his coat tails as he swung onto the upper rafter catwalk, boots clanging against the grated metal. The rocket boots' afterburn still hissed faintly, blue exhaust curling in the humid air like smoke from a dying fire. He crouched low behind a support truss, crimson eyes tracking the golden blade below clenched in the hands of Connel Vanagor .

He hardly had a moment to catch sight of the white glimmer from the hurled light knife, which was tumbling off course, as his ridged scalp tensed with an instinctive alert, as the blade twisted in midair like a sentient being and soared upward with an astonishing degree of precision, targeting his right boot thruster.

"Son of a—"

Vonto reacted by striking his left vambrace against the railing for support and activated the emergency vector override on both boots. The thrusters ignited once more not in a forward or upward direction, but angled backward and downward at a forty-five-degree angle. A thunderous burst of blue-white flames shot from the soles, crashing into the rafter grating behind him.

The recoil hit like a repulsorlift kick to the chest.

He shot backward across the narrow catwalk, boots skimming the metal like skates on black ice, sparks trailing in bright arcs where the thruster wash scorched the deck. The lightknife streaked past, close enough that he felt the heat singe the edge of his wide-brimmed hat then buried itself in the truss support with a sharp crack of superheated durasteel.

The blade vanished as quickly as it had appeared, self-deactivating on impact or recalled by its owner. The Duros slid to a halt at the far end of the rafter, one hand gripping the railing to arrest his momentum, the other still clutching the pistol. Breath came fast but controlled as below the Jedi landed like gravity was optional, blade still humming in that low reverse grip.

The single answering shot from the lightblaster had been precise aimed not to kill, but to remind. It had scorched the truss inches from Vonto's shoulder, leaving a glowing red line in the metal as he armed the Concealed dart launcher and fired down some toxic darts in a randomized pattern.

 

[Connel Vanagor]

FINDERS OF A MISPLACED VAULT
MERIDIAN
VAULT

Omega Squad Every Day Gear Locations

• Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel, Raguel
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  Rides
  "Enterprise" Station Ship
  Null Vector
  Speederbike
  Iron Psalm
  Gear/Armor
  Gear(“Bodycam” Datapad, UAD Drone, and Nanotech included)
  Lightblaster
  Shortsabers (“Night” and “Day”)
  Throwing Lightknives
  Force Blinding Flashbangs
  SURGICAL - CRYBERNETIC IMPLANTS
  Repli Implants that would be for the limbs
  Bonemer enhancements to strengthen structure of the body
  Muscle enhancements.
  Hemo enhancements for blood flow
  Hawkeye implants for eyes
  Advanced Medical Implant
  Scentzy
  Injected Nanotech upgrades
  
  
  
• Shadow Sanctuary - Enterprise

The darts came fast.
Not aimed.
Scattered.
A hunter’s pattern.
They fanned out from the rafters in a loose, unpredictable spread, glinting faintly as they cut through the mist toward the chamber floor. Connel saw it immediately. Not the darts. The intent.
Area denial.
Force movement. Break rhythm. He moved. One step back— His hand dipped to his belt. The flashbang snapped free and hit the deck with a sharp metallic clack. White light detonated. The chamber vanished.
For half a heartbeat, everything became brilliance and thunder.
Connel’s visor compensated instantly, dimming the flare into a manageable bloom—but the timing wasn’t for him. It was for the darts. His hand came up. The Force answered.Not like a wave.
Like a net.
The incoming darts slowed. Not all of them.
Most.
Their trajectories bent, arrested mid-flight as invisible resistance gripped them. A handful still punched through the edge of his control, clattering harmlessly across the deck or embedding shallowly into nearby metal.
But the bulk—
Hung.
Suspended.
A glittering storm frozen in the air between him and the rafters. Connel’s jaw tightened. This wasn’t effortless. Fine control. Multiple objects. Randomized vectors. He held it anyway. For a moment, the chamber looked like time itself had hesitated.
White light fading.
Darts hovering.
Saber blade humming low.
He tilted his head upward toward the catwalk. Creative, he called, voice even despite the strain threading underneath. Then his fingers curled slightly.
The suspended darts shuddered—
—and snapped sideways, flung into the surrounding walls and pillars in a sharp metallic chorus.
Clear. But not free. Because in that same moment—His awareness narrowed. Just enough. The cost. The opening. He felt it as a shift in the air above him. A displacement.
Movement from the rafters.
Too late to fully re-center.
He dropped his stance, blade rising— But this time, he wasn’t waiting. Not reacting. Done letting the Duros dictate range. Connel moved forward. Fast. Not reckless. Decisive. Boot hit deck— Second step— He drove toward the base of the catwalk supports, closing distance as the vault pulsed again beneath them, Aurek feeding power back into the section.
Above him, the Duros still had height. Still had tools. Still had options. But the space between them—Was gone. Connel’s voice carried up through the chamber as he moved.
You keep buying time—
A flick of his wrist. The embedded lightknife in the truss snapped free and shot back toward his hand.
—I’m done selling it.
He caught it cleanly. And now the fight wasn’t cat and mouse anymore.
It was range collapse.

Sela Basran • Meri Vale • @Nyl Shar'synda • Andromeda Demir

Personal Effects - Omega Squad Loadouts​

 

[Sela Basran]

THE MERIDIAN VAULT
THE MID WORKS
​

The Jedi Master glanced this way and that, studying the topsy-turvy room. It certainly looked a mess, like people had left in a rush, and that people had picked through the place multiple times. A layer of dust coated the debris that looked like it hadn't been disturbed in some time. That was something, at least. "Yes," Sela agreed with Meri Vale . It was becoming very apparent to the Jedi Master that Meri was either familiar with this type of structure, or uncommonly intuitive.

There was also the fact that she was Force sensitive, but so was Sela, and that didn't give her any particular insight into the power cycling that both Ms. Vale and Connel seemed to grasp instinctively. Perhaps they were both gifted in a sort of technical aspect of the Force that Sela wasn't -- Mecha Deru, maybe, but she didn't want to speculate.

"I could not rightly say what caused them to flee, or even how long ago it was," Sela said, crouching in the barrack room. She dragged her finger through the dust on the ground, then lifted her finger to examine it. It was certainly thick, and had taken the kind of sticky quality that often happened after years and years. She rubbed her fingers together to get most of the dust off and then wiped them on her trousers. "But it is certainly years. That is, I think, a good sign."

Sela straightened and with one last glance around the barracks, she went back into the broad corridor and continued on. "Fascinating," she observed, eyes tracing along the moving pathways overhead, shifting with the pulsing of the power supply. "The pulsing seems orderly -- predictable in its way -- but not constant. It is, as you said, accelerating. But why? I wonder if it has to do with Connel. Or perhaps the other two. I do not see that anything you or I have done could impact it, but maybe presence is enough..."

She came to an intersection, looked both ways. "What does your intuition tell you to do here, Ms. Vale?"

Connel Vanagor | Vonto Slim | Meri Vale​

 

[Czebin Sonruuj]

/:/ Tag: Sela Basran Meri Vale ( Nearby )
__________________________________________________________________________​

Vonto watched with an unamused expression at the sight of his toxic darts being frozen in the air from Connel Vanagor invisible grip. Impressive but annoying, the flashbangs' afterimage still burned at the edge of his vision but his vambrace overlays had already compensated, filtering the flare into useable data.

The elevated position offered him no further advantage, so he leaped over the catwalk railing, plunging ten meters straight down to the reactor platform beneath, his coat billowing behind him. During the fall, he twisted his body, activating the rocket thrusters in his boots for a brief, powerful burst angled downward. This thrust slowed his fall just enough to transform freefall into a managed slide.

"Trust me you wouldn't make a good salesman." Vonto retorted, landing forcefully on the grated surface of the lowest catwalk, his knees bending to cushion the impact, while one hand struck the metal for stability.

He rolled once to shed momentum and sprang up already in motion, his long strides propelling him toward the diagnostic terminal twenty meters away. But the Jedi was quick. Golden light pursued him down the levels, slicing through coolant vapor like a knife through silk. His right forearm shot up. His thumb located the hidden toggle on the inner plate of the vambrace.

Verpine Shielding

A soft whine began to emanate from the device, high-pitched, nearly ultrasonic before it transitioned into a shimmering distortion field. Pale violet energy surged outward from emitters integrated into the vambrace, bracelet, and belt clasp, creating a snug ellipsoid bubble no larger than a meter in diameter.

He moved to make space, boots pounding the grating as the shield's faint hum blended in with the reactor's noise. Behind him, Connel's boots hit the upper catwalk supports with metallic clangs, vaulting, dropping, closing.

 

[Connel Vanagor]

FINDERS OF A MISPLACED VAULT
MERIDIAN
VAULT

Omega Squad Every Day Gear Locations

• Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel, Raguel
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  Rides
  "Enterprise" Station Ship
  Null Vector
  Speederbike
  Iron Psalm
  Gear/Armor
  Gear(“Bodycam” Datapad, UAD Drone, and Nanotech included)
  Lightblaster
  Shortsabers (“Night” and “Day”)
  Throwing Lightknives
  Force Blinding Flashbangs
  SURGICAL - CRYBERNETIC IMPLANTS
  Repli Implants that would be for the limbs
  Bonemer enhancements to strengthen structure of the body
  Muscle enhancements.
  Hemo enhancements for blood flow
  Hawkeye implants for eyes
  Advanced Medical Implant
  Scentzy
  Injected Nanotech upgrades
  
  
  
• Shadow Sanctuary - Enterprise

The Duros dropped.
Ten meters. Controlled. Clean. Connel tracked the descent, boots already moving, closing angles along the catwalk supports. The golden blade cut a clean arc through the mist as he followed—and then he saw it.
Not the man.
The decision. Vector shift. Terminal direction. Shield activation. Disengage. Not panic. Professional exit.
Connel slowed.
Just slightly. Enough to think. The vault pulsed beneath his feet. Aurek feeding power through the section again. Doors shifting. Systems waking.
And above—He felt them.
Jedi.
Closer now. Too close for a running fight in a reactor chamber. His jaw tightened. He could catch him. Maybe. Drive forward. Close the last meters. Force the duel to its conclusion.
And risk—Crossfire. Collateral. A vault that was already one bad idea away from becoming a coffin. He exhaled. Decision made. Connel let the distance open. The blade lowered slightly, its hum settling into a quiet presence instead of a pursuit.
Go, he muttered under his breath.
Not permission. Assessment. The Duros sprinted toward the terminal, shield shimmering faintly around him as he moved through the haze. Connel didn’t follow. Instead, he stepped off the support strut and dropped the remaining distance to the reactor platform below. His landing was controlled, boots absorbing the impact with a dull metallic thud. ~Master Basran… Well armed Duros headed your way potentially.~
He straightened slowly. The chamber breathed around him. Coolant vapor curled through the air in low, drifting sheets. Conduits pulsed with steady blue light, carrying energy deeper into the vault’s southern spine.
The place felt… awake. Not hostile. Not yet.
Just aware.
He turned once, scanning the rafters, the terminal, the paths Vonto had taken. Gone. For now. Not bad, he murmured.
A faint smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth.
Then it faded. Focus returning. He reached up and tapped the side of his visor.
[SERAPHIM], he said quietly. [Tag last known vector. Predict likely routes to archive access.]
A faint overlay flickered across his HUD, mapping possible paths branching southward through the reactor sub-levels. Multiple routes. Some direct. Some… less so.
He marked them.
Then he turned his attention back to the chamber itself. Now he looked like a different man than the one who had been chasing through the tunnels. Still. Measured. Present.
The safety net.
His hand lifted slightly, not to strike—But to feel. The Force moved through the chamber in layered currents. Not dark. Not twisted. Just… strained. A system pushing itself to continue functioning long after it should have failed.
His eyes traced the conduits. The pressure seals. The half-exposed terminal Vonto had uncovered. Let’s see what you’re hiding, he said quietly.
Above him, faint voices began to echo down through the maintenance access points. Jedi. Approaching. Connel stepped toward the terminal, blade still in hand but held low, non-threatening. Guarding. Not chasing. Because the hunt could wait.
But the others—They weren’t walking into this place blind.
Not while he was here.

Sela Basran • Meri Vale • @Nyl Shar'synda • Andromeda Demir

Personal Effects - Omega Squad Loadouts​

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri stayed close to the rough, cool wall as they moved deeper into the structure, her attention constantly shifting in a restless cycle between the dark corridor ahead and the subtle, almost rhythmic changes in the environment around them.

The pulsing was no longer a distant vibration; it was a physical presence that seemed to resonate in the very marrow of her bones. The sound carried differently in this specific stretch of the hallway, feeling less like an echo and more like a localized pressure, as if the air itself were being squeezed by the architecture.

When Sela spoke about the acceleration of the pattern, Meri's gaze lifted briefly toward the ceiling, where the interlocking pathways above shifted with each cycle of the machinery. She watched one of the heavy stone segments retract and then extend again, noting, with a flare of quiet alarm, that it was moving just a fraction faster than it had only a few minutes earlier.

"It is not random," she said, her voice a soft, fragile thread against the grinding of the stone. "It is reacting to something."

She hesitated for a long beat, her fingers nervously twisting the strap of her satchel, before she added, "Maybe it is responding to our movement…or perhaps to power being channeled through the system somewhere else entirely."

She didn't sound certain of her conclusion; her expression clouded as if she were simply working through a puzzle with too many missing pieces. As they reached the center of the intersection, Meri slowed her pace until she came to a complete stop, not offering an answer right away as she first looked left, then right.

Her eyes didn't linger on the obvious open paths; instead, they drifted lower to the floor and the bases of the walls, searching for the way the ancient dust had settled and for the faint disturbances where the heavy blocks had shifted recently.

Then, she closed her eyes for a brief moment, not reaching for anything mystical or beyond her senses, but simply trying to filter out the visual distractions so she could think. The pulse came again, surging beneath the soles of her boots with a strength that made her shoulders tense, and her head turned slightly toward the darker of the two corridors.

"That way," she said softly, pointing a trembling finger toward the shadows. "The sound is…It's deeper there, as if the structure itself is carrying more weight or under more strain."

She lowered her hand quickly, glancing back at Sela with a visible hint of uncertainty as if she were afraid of being wrong. "If something is truly changing the system, it might be closer to that direction, but I…I can't be entirely sure."

Meri shifted her grip slightly on her satchel, anchoring herself to the familiar weight of her belongings, and then took a small, tentative step forward—not quite leading the way, but signaling that she was ready to follow if Sela agreed with her intuition.

Sela Basran Vonto Slim Connel Vanagor

 

[Sela Basran]

​

"Very well," said Sela, nodding her assent. She could find no fault in Meri Vale 's logic or her reasoning. Nothing in the Force suggested to Jedi Master that that was an incorrect answer. Nothing in the Force suggested that there was an incorrect answer. Then, she heard Connel's voice in her head, telepathy from somewhere deep within the vault. She keyed her comlink. "Everyone, Master Basran here. Be on your guard. There is someone armed and potentially dangerous -- a Duro, according to Vanagor. Take caution, be careful, and remember your training. Defend yourselves. Do not harm him unless you must."

She didn't know if anyone else received the message -- Demir and Brimarch were not responding, though she could feel their presence not far away. Well, whatever they were doing, she hoped they would stay safe.

"Stay close to me. At least until anyone armed shows up," Sela told Meri. "If they do, I want you to get somewhere safe and stay there. If something happens to me, you should be able to reach the others on the communicator."

They worked their way deeper into the facility, the unsettling rhythm of passages sealing off making Sela's skin crawl. "How is this stacking up against your education, Ms. Vale?" she asked wryly.

Meri Vale | Connel Vanagor | Vonto Slim


​

 

[Czebin Sonruuj]

/:/ Tag: Sela Basran Meri Vale ( Nearby )
__________________________________________________________________________​

Vonto didn't pause for Connel Vanagor to catch up; instead, he skidded to a stop at the nearby diagnostic terminal.

The vambrace's HUD lit up green as the download percentage increased, while the reactor's hum resonated through the deck plating under his boots. Navigating the Aurek phase was about to become significantly more challenging, with bulkheads creaking, coolant vents slamming shut in succession, and the entire southern spine starting to reconfigure itself.

"Come on, you piece of junk," he grumbled, his fingers gliding over the haptic controls. Schematics poured into his buffer: overlays of the power grid, concealed archive access points, and encrypted vault core logs suggesting something much more precious than Guildmaster credits. He pulled the spike out at ninety-four percent, quickly applied a patch to deceive the terminal's intrusion log, and turned away.

He raced down the closest maintenance corridor heading south, his coat billowing and wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his furrowed brow. The hallway quickly constricted, blue emergency lights flashing as the vault's old mechanisms stirred to life. A pressure door in front of him hissed open automatically, thanks to the phase shift before slamming shut behind him with a thunderous bang.

The walls shuddered. A massive stone-and-durasteel segment retracted overhead with a grinding roar, then slid sideways, sealing the path he'd meant to take. The only open route now spilled him into a wider arterial hallway lined with half-buried conduits and drifting coolant mist.

Vonto rounded the corner at a dead run and nearly collided with two figures in the form of Meri Vale and Sela Basran . A human woman in Jedi robes, lightsaber hilt clipped at her belt, one hand resting protectively near a younger civilian clutching a satchel. Master and apprentice? Escort? Didn't matter.

"Hello Jedi, we've been expecting you." He fired on the move, controlled pairs, crimson bolts screaming down the corridor. The first volley hammered toward the Jedi woman's center mass, the second stitching low at the civilian's feet to drive her back.

 

[Sela Basran]

SHIRAYA'S SANCTUARY
MASTER BASRAN'S QUARTERS
​

Sela's lightsaber was in her hand, the blade vivid green in an instant. She batted the blaster bolts away from her easily. "Back," she cried to Meri, throwing an arm out as if to shepherd her back behind her. Sela kept her lightsaber in a defensive posture and reached out in the Force, sending a massive wave of sand at the Duro, with enough force to strip the paint off the door frame beside him. She wondered what it would do to the Duro's eyes or even his blaster.

And with the sand, the blast of kinetic energy with the Force that carried it.

"Put down your weapon," Sela shouted at Vonto Slim. "I do not want to harm you, but I will not hesitate if you push me."

But it might not be up to Sela Basran. Behind Vonto, a pair of security droids had come into view, and were already in the process of raising their blasters. They aimed and fired. Sela said into the comm channel: "The Duro is here -- the midlevel, just past the entry hangar!"

Vonto Slim | Meri Vale | Connel Vanagor​

 

[Meri Vale]

The first crack of blasterfire shattered whatever calm Meri had been holding onto.

She let out a sharp, involuntary yelp, the sound escaping before she could stop it as crimson bolts tore through the air toward them. Instinct overrode thought. She stumbled back a step too quickly, nearly losing her footing as she recoiled from the sudden violence, her satchel knocking against her side as she caught herself.

The heat of the bolts, even deflected, was enough to make her flinch again, her shoulders tightening as her eyes tracked the chaotic movement of light and motion far faster than she could properly process it.

Then Sela moved.

The green blade ignited, and for a brief moment, that became the only thing Meri could focus on, a barrier, a line between her and something far more dangerous than anything she was equipped to handle.

She didn't argue when Sela pushed her back. She didn't hesitate.

Meri retreated quickly, slipping behind the Jedi Master, using her presence as both shield and anchor as she crouched slightly, trying to make herself smaller, less visible, less in the way. Her grip tightened on the strap of her satchel, knuckles whitening as she forced herself to stay still instead of bolting outright.

Her eyes flicked past Sela's shoulder, catching brief, fragmented glimpses of the Duro, the corridor, the flashing lights, and the growing chaos pressing in around them.

This was not structured. This was not something that could be studied or solved. It was unpredictable. Violent. Immediate.

Her breathing came quicker now, controlled only by effort, as she held her position behind Sela, trusting the Jedi to hold the line while she stayed out of it, exactly where she knew she needed to be.

Sela Basran Vonto Slim Connel Vanagor