Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction The Nightfall Affair I: Secrets of the Amaxine Vault

Walking myth, warning label, and mild HR violation
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FINDERS OF A MISPLACED VAULT
MERIDIAN
VAULT





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The vault pulsed. Aurek surged into the section like a breath drawn too sharply. Connel felt it through the deck before he heard the shots.

Blasterfire.

Close. Too close.

His head snapped toward the corridor branching east of the reactor spine. The UAD feed flared in the corner of his visor—motion, heat signatures, silhouettes colliding in a narrow passage.

Sela, Meri.

And the Duros.

Of course.

He moved. No sprinting charge. No announcement. Just speed controlled to silence.

Bootfalls softened by training older than the armor he wore. Each step placed where the grating flexed least, where the vault’s own mechanical groan masked his presence. The hum of the facility became his cover. Ariel didn’t disappear. He simply stopped being noticed.

The corridor narrowed, coolant mist drifting low as he approached the intersection. He slowed just enough to let the scene resolve ahead.

Sela’s green blade.

Meri behind her, the yelp from the girl showed no fear, the kid was okay even on her own.

Vonto was in motion—and the droids rising behind him.

A triangle.

All of them about to fire.

Connel exhaled once. Then stepped into it.

The first thing Vonto would feel was absence. The space behind him changing. The subtle shift in pressure that had warned him once before. This time, too late.


Connel’s lightblaster came up smoothly, already leveled at the Duros’ back. Not rushed. Not shaky. Placed. She doesn’t want to hurt you— His voice cut through the corridor, calm and low, threaded with something colder now. I do.

There was no shout, nor theatrics. Just certainty. At the same time—A pulse flickered across Sela’s mind. Not words spoken aloud. Not Force dominance. Just a quick, precise touch. ~[Play along.]~

And to Meri, softer—~[Stay behind her.]~

Gone as quickly as it came.

The droids fired. Red bolts screamed down the corridor and Connel moved again. Not away from Vonto, toward the angle. His free hand snapped up, the Force catching one bolt and dragging it just enough off course to slam into the leading droid’s shoulder joint. Sparks burst as its aim staggered.

His blade came up in the same motion, catching the next shot and deflecting it into the second droid’s chest in a shower of molten fragments. Now the geometry shifted.

No longer: Duros vs Jedi

But: Everyone in the same kill box.

Connel stepped closer behind Vonto, close enough now that the Duros could hear the faint hum of the blade at his side. Close enough that it all felt real. Drop it, Connel said quietly. Not a command. A calculation. Or I start solving problems.




 

Czebin Sonruuj

Guest
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/:/ Tag: Sela Basran Sela Basran Meri Vale Meri Vale
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Vonto's eyes narrowed as Sela Basran Sela Basran unleashed a powerful wave of sand toward him, strong enough to tear panels from the corridor walls. The force of the impact collided with his Verpine Shielding, which had been readied in advance, allowing him to endure much of the onslaught.

The force of the impact propelled him backward, slamming him against the wall. "Kriffing monks," he growled, already springing into action. Behind him, the security droids unleashed a barrage of blaster fire, the sharp cracks echoing through the corridor.

One shot grazed his left shoulder, searing through fabric and flesh, while another struck the wall beside his head, sending molten durasteel flying like shrapnel. Amidst the chaos, a new voice emerged, low and calm, far too close for comfort in the form of Connel Vanagor Connel Vanagor

"You should have brought an EMP, kid." He slammed his heels together.

The rocket boots ignited with a thunderous roar. Blue-white flame erupted from the soles at point-blank angle, turning him into a living missile. The violet shield flared brighter as the sudden thrust launched him forward like a battering ram, straight down the corridor toward Sela Basran Sela Basran and the wide-eyed civilian girl Meri Vale Meri Vale huddled behind her.

 
The roar came first, a sound so sudden and immense it seemed to swallow her thoughts before they could even begin to form.

Meri didn't understand what she was seeing at first. The violent flare of light and the sudden, predatory surge of the Duros as he launched himself down the corridor were too fast to track. He shifted from a distant threat into something immediate and unstoppable, moving with a chaotic energy that she couldn't reduce to any known pattern or predictable sequence. For a brief, suspended moment, her mind reached for something familiar, a rule, a structure, a way to solve the crisis, and found absolutely nothing.

Yet, beneath that void of logic, something else rose to meet the moment. It was the same pressure Meri had felt before, though it wasn't a thought or a conscious decision. It wasn't even fear in a way she could define.

It was a presence.

It surged in rhythm with the motion in front of her, filling the space between her and the incoming impact in a way she couldn't see but could no longer ignore. This was the same sensation she had brushed against in her quietest moments, a subtle thing that had always resisted definition, only now it was no longer subtle. It was simply there.

Meri didn't step forward or move out from behind Sela. She didn't consciously decide to act. What she did instead was far simpler and entirely uncontrolled: she reached for it. Her hands lifted slightly without her noticing, her fingers tensing as if bracing against an invisible weight. There was no formal intention or understanding of the mechanics involved, only the same raw instinct she had used when pulling at the stone on another world. This time, however, there was no hesitation, because something was already answering her.

The pressure between them tightened, the air growing dense and heavy under her focus. Ahead of them, the drifting coolant mist shifted, pulled out of place by an unseen resistance that didn't move through the air so much as press against it. For an instant, the path of the Duros' charge intersected with that invisible density. It wasn't a solid barrier, but it was undeniably present.

Whether it would be enough to disrupt his momentum, slow his flight, or do nothing at all was not something Meri could determine. She had no control over the outcome and no ability to refine the force she had summoned into something precise. She could only hold onto it, uncertain and unsteady, as the distance between them closed.

Then, just as quickly as it had formed, the pressure slipped.

The connection unraveled under the strain of her inexperience, breaking apart and leaving her with nothing but a hollow echo and the staggering realization of what she had tried to do. Meri stumbled back a half-step, her breath catching unevenly as her focus collapsed. Her hands lowered as she stared into the space ahead, her eyes wide, not with confidence, but with the quiet shock of having reached for something that had, for even the briefest moment, reached back.

Vonto Slim Connel Vanagor Connel Vanagor Sela Basran Sela Basran
 

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THE AMAXINE VAULT
The Jedi Master gasped as she felt Meri Vale Meri Vale reach for the Force -- unpolished, untrained, and ultimately unstable. Sela wasn't quite sure what the girl was trying to do, so she couldn't bolster it. She knew that she couldn't stop the charge, and that whatever the case, she didn't want to put herself, Meri, or a lightsaber blade up against the Duros' energy shield. Deactivating her lightsaber, Sela threw a blast of air through the Force at Meri, seeking to shove her out of the way of the incoming humanoid missile.

Thus, she didn't have the time to throw herself out of the way, only to steel herself and try to put up a buffer.

It was successful -- to an extent. Rather than her bones breaking, she was merely hurled against the wall and ground, bruising her hip and side and rattling her head as it smacked against the stone wall. "Ahh!" she grunted, her head spinning, her vision swimming. She put a hand to her head to try to stop the corridor from spinning.

Reid and Andromeda were still nowhere to be seen. Meri wasn't going to be terribly effective, it seemed -- and why would she? She was an academic, not a warrior. It looked like this would boil down to Sela herself and Connel, and whatever automated security they could trick into targeting the Duros rather than themselves.

She reached into the Force, let it pulse through her, blowing cobwebs, and leapt to her feet with a surprising amount of grace and energy for a woman with that much silver in her hair. Sela brought her lightsaber up, ignited the blade, and locked eyes on the Duros.



 
Walking myth, warning label, and mild HR violation
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FINDERS OF A MISPLACED VAULT
MERIDIAN
VAULT





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In a flash, both literally and figuratively, the Duros was gone. Connel could have given chase, but he might put more in danger and that was a priority right now. So what he could do was the better option. To reach out through the voice, attempting to reach into the foe’s mind and alter the environment.


Hopefully the Duros would see nothing but the Shadow relentlessly pursuing him. They may not be able to pursue easily enough, given how fast Slim was going but hopefully they could drive him out entirely. Especially with those who had to be protected now.



 

Czebin Sonruuj

Guest
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/:/ Tag: Sela Basran Sela Basran Meri Vale Meri Vale
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Vonto felt the clumsy, untrained tug of Meri Vale Meri Vale Force pull brush against him, slowing him down for half a heartbeat, just enough to make his teeth grind, but his momentum was already too great. He barreled past Sela Basran Sela Basran in a blur of scorched coat and blue-white flame.

His shoulder collided forcefully with the Jedi Master, sending her crashing against the wall with a sharp grunt of pain. Despite the impact, she quickly regained her composure, her green lightsaber igniting as she pushed off the durasteel surface.

Behind him, blaster bolts from the security droids ricocheted off the walls, and he sensed the looming presence of Connel Vanagor Connel Vanagor drawing closer, a silent and relentless shadow that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness.

Mid-flight, with his boots still ablaze, Vonto's mind raced through calculations, even as pain shot through his grazed shoulder and the raw scrapes from Sela's sand blast throbbed. He had secured the schematics and filled the data buffer, but the vault was awakening much quicker than he had expected, with Aurek phase locking down sections.

Adding to the chaos were two Jedi, an untrained Force-sensitive civilian, and automated defenses that were far more operational than the outdated schematics suggested. The situation was rapidly deteriorating.

"Kriff the payout", he muttered under his breath, his voice drowned out by the roar of the thrusters. "I'll survive to steal another day."

He slammed the vambrace controls, pushing the boots to maximum sustained burn. The flame behind him erupted as he veered sharply left at the next junction, launching himself over a half-lowered pressure door with a burst of thrust that sent him skimming along the ceiling for three heartbeats before crashing back to the deck in a shower of sparks.

He poured every scrap of power into the rocket boots and sprinted for the surface levels to make a swift escape.

End Post

 
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The impact came too fast for Meri to fully understand.

One moment, the pressure she had reached for was there, tenuous and uncertain, brushing against something she could not control, and the next it collapsed under the force of reality. The Duros did not stop. He did not even truly slow, only faltered for the briefest fraction before momentum carried him through.

Then Sela moved.

Meri did not see the exact motion, only felt it, the sudden rush of air slamming into her and tearing her out of the space she had been holding. Her footing vanished beneath her as she was thrown sideways, her shoulder striking the ground hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs in a sharp, silent gasp.

For a moment, she could not move. The world narrowed to sensation. The sting of impact. The sharp pull in her ribs as she tried to breathe. The distant echo of motion and sound that her mind struggled to catch up to. By the time she forced air back into her lungs, the moment had already passed.

She pushed herself up unsteadily, her hand bracing against the cold floor as her vision cleared in fragments. The Duros was already gone, nothing left but the fading echo of thrusters and the residual chaos he had carved through the corridor.

Her eyes shifted immediately to Sela. Not the walls. Not the damage. Sela.

Meri moved without thinking, closing the distance quickly despite the lingering unsteadiness in her steps. She dropped down beside her, not touching her at first, but close enough to see, to assess, to confirm.

"…are you hurt?" The question was quiet, but urgent in a way she did not often allow.

Her gaze moved quickly, taking in the way Sela held herself, the placement of her hand, the signs of impact she could recognize even without training. There was no panic, but there was no detachment either. This was not a puzzle. Not something to analyze from a distance. This mattered.

Her fingers hovered briefly, uncertain, before settling lightly against the edge of the floor instead of reaching further, grounding herself in something stable as she forced her breathing to steady.

"I tried to stop him," she said, quieter now, the words carrying no defense, no justification. "I couldn't hold it."

Her gaze lowered for a brief moment, not in shame, but in acknowledgment of the fact. Then she looked back up, focus returning, sharper now, more present. "…what do we do?"

Connel Vanagor Connel Vanagor Sela Basran Sela Basran Vonto Slim
 

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Sela squinted at Meri Vale Meri Vale as the room began to quiet down and stop spinning. "I am unharmed," she said delicately. She would certainly feel it in the morning, she was sure, but she was not debilitated.

The threat seemed to have passed. That was something, at least. "I felt it," she answered the younger woman, her voice tight. "Did you know you were Force sensitive, Ms. Vale? Because you are. That is what you were trying to pull from. It was strong, for someone untrained." Sela brushed dust from her robes and turned to see Connel coming from the same direction the Duros had come from.

"Thank goodness for you both," Sela said, smiling in turn at both Connel Vanagor Connel Vanagor and Meri. She turned her attention back to Meri's question. "Now? Now, we press on. If things continue to deteriorate, the vault may well become inaccessible, and we need what is within."

And Sela set out, drawing her lightsaber. She was done fooling around. Dispatching two security droids in her path, she proceeded south, her face utterly determined.



 
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Walking myth, warning label, and mild HR violation
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FINDERS OF A MISPLACED VAULT
MERIDIAN
VAULT





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Security droids were starting to appear, Connel was taking care of ones he had seen but he could not see every one. When Master Basran had taken care of others, he knew she was okay. It would only be a matter of time before the facility went into “lockdown.” He did not know this for certain, but it was a standard procedure, and automation usually means “standard.”

I’ll move ahead. This was not a move of bravado or heroism, it was one of someone who knew the layout better than the other two had.

 
Meri remained crouched beside Sela for a moment longer, watching her with the same careful attention she gave to anything that had just survived a significant impact. It was only when it became clear that the Jedi Master was steady on her feet, speaking with more irritation regarding the situation than actual injury, that some of the lingering tension finally began to leave her shoulders. While not all of the anxiety vanished, enough of it dissipated to allow her to focus on the immediate reality of their surroundings once more.

When Sela spoke of the strange sensation she had felt, Meri's expression changed only slightly, though the shift remained visible to anyone observant enough to look for it. Her eyes lowered for a brief moment as she mentally arranged how much truth could be acknowledged without inviting the kind of questions she was not yet ready to answer. She knew that there was something deep within her that did not fit the ordinary shape of things, as too many moments had accumulated for her to dismiss the phenomenon entirely. There had been objects that responded when they should have remained still, instincts that arrived long before reason, and strange currents beneath the silence that no one else seemed to notice.

Knowing a thing existed, however, was not the same as possessing the ability to control it. She chose not to speak aloud, and instead gave Sela the faintest nod, one so slight it could have been mistaken for the simple settling of her posture as she rose. It was intended to be enough of an answer, and it was truly all she was willing to give in such a volatile moment.

Her fingers brushed a layer of dust from the side of her satchel before tightening once more around the leather strap, grounding herself in the feel of something familiar and solid. The corridor still smelled heavily of scorched metal and disturbed stone, and despite her outward composure, her pulse had not fully settled into its normal rhythm. When Sela thanked them both, Meri's gaze shifted briefly toward Connel, offering a quiet and immediate recognition rather than a smile before her attention returned to the path ahead.

The group needed to press on because the vault was already changing around them, with ancient mechanisms grinding deeper within its bones and corridors that were no longer trustworthy. She rose smoothly, favoring one side only slightly from where she had been thrown by the blast, and stepped after Sela without offering a single word of complaint. When Connel announced he would move ahead, Meri studied the certainty in his voice and the ease with which he moved through danger as though it were simply another environment to be mapped and understood.

She followed him while keeping close enough to remain within the reassuring light of Sela's ignited blade, but stayed far enough back to avoid impeding the Jedi's movements. Her eyes continued to scan the walls, floor seams, and structural irregularities with a renewed intensity, relying on her talent for observation and pattern recognition. Since she could not yet command the strange power that had answered her, she would lean on the quiet certainty that whatever lay deeper within the vault was meant to be discovered by those who could recognize the details others missed.

Sela Basran Sela Basran Connel Vanagor Connel Vanagor
 

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THE AMAXINE VAULT
THE ARCHIVE

Finally, they came to the entrance to the vault. It had required some doing, for it was hidden behind a false wall that had nearly cemented itself shut with all the grit and sand that had gotten into its works. This door was not powered, not subject to the whims of the power core's torturous machinations. "It is distinctly possible," she observed to Meri and Connel, "that whoever occupied this facility last was blissfully unaware of this."

Sela's hand ran along an edge, identical in every respect to every other of the wall tiles on that wall. She harnessed the Force and used it to gently dispel the sand that filled the seam, and felt along the seam until she found a catch. It was locked. Sela glanced at Connel, then at Meri, then gave a faint smile.

"Sometimes there is just nothing for it," she murmured enigmatically, then drew her lightsaber and jammed it into the locking mechanism. She moved the blade down, then up, then pulled back and gave the door a pull. With difficulty and effort and with no shortage of groaning by the hinges, the door came open. "Split up," she told them. "Look for anything that might fit the description of the Nightfall Register -- a book, maybe. Maybe a scroll or a datapad or something. It is a list of artifacts smuggled away from Jedi enclaves during the fall of the Old Republic."

Sela looked around, coming to a cabinet and pulling the doors open to look inside. No books here. Some trinkets, it looked like. Her eyes settled on what looked like a monocle on a delicate chain, like a necklace, but there was something unusual about it. A subtle signature in the Force. She reached for it, let her fingertip linger on the edge for a moment, then she picked it up and held it up to her eye.

She frowned thoughtfully at what she saw and then tucked the thing away into her pocket for further analysis later. She proceeded to the ancient computer console on a desk in the center of the room, and to her surprise the screen flickered to life at her approach. "Ah... what have we here?" she murmured to herself as she leaned over the console.



 
Walking myth, warning label, and mild HR violation
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FINDERS OF A MISPLACED VAULT
MERIDIAN
VAULT





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When Basran had pulled her lightsaber and jammed it into the panel, Connel inwardly chuckled and thought to himself the old parable that his father had long ago taught him about the three archetypes when coming across a locked door. The Consular would knock, the Guardian would kick it open, the Sentinel would pick the lock. Maybe Sela was not a Sentinel, he did not ask, but she was picking the lock.

When inside, he began looking around but really, what was he looking for? A book? There were dozens of them, well, only way to get to your destination is to move… so…

Ugh, whoever wrote in these, their handwriting is worse than mine. They were so random at that. Notes, directions?

 
Meri stepped into the chamber more slowly than the others, not from hesitation, but because the room felt like a puzzle that demanded to be solved before it could be touched.

The air inside was different from the corridors beyond, holding the dry, heavy stillness of a place sealed for decades. Dust had settled undisturbed across shelves and consoles, and while the room appeared cluttered, Meri could sense a ghost of an order beneath the grime. To her, nothing felt truly random; even the disorder had an age and a specific intention.

While Sela moved toward the cabinets and Connel focused on the books, Meri remained near the threshold. Her gray eyes moved steadily across the space, trying to find the logic of the layout before she dared to venture further. Desk centered, shelving along the walls, storage built for function rather than display; whoever had used this room had valued efficiency over elegance. It felt like the workspace of a practical mind, or perhaps one working under immense pressure.

She crossed to the nearest stack of texts and crouched slightly, her movements tentative as she examined the spines and faded markings. Her fingers brushed dust aside in careful lines, revealing symbols that made her brow furrow in concentration.

"These are not organized by subject," she said quietly, her voice barely carrying as she spoke more to herself than to the others. "I think…they are organized by access frequency."

She glanced toward Connel, then back to the shelves, her expression tightening with the effort of visualizing the room's past use.

"The most handled materials were likely placed nearest the desk, while less-used records were pushed outward."

Her hand moved toward a shelf two levels above where Connel had begun searching, but she hesitated, her fingers hovering just inches from the wood.

"If someone needed something like the Nightfall Register regularly, it wouldn't be hidden at random," she murmured, her tone lacking certainty but following a growing intuition. "It would have been kept within reach."

She drew one narrow ledger free, but as soon as she felt the weight and saw the wear pattern on the cover, she replaced it with a small, disappointed exhale. It was the wrong size. It didn't fit the pattern. Her gaze shifted toward the desk where Sela worked and then toward the walls behind it, eventually settling on a lower cabinet partially obscured by a fallen crate.

"There," she whispered, moving toward it with a bit more purpose, though she still knelt cautiously.

Brushing away a heavy layer of dust, she noted the cleaner edges near the handle. It was a faint sign, but to her eyes, it suggested the compartment had been opened more recently than anything else in the room, even if "recently" meant years ago.

"Someone came back to this one," she said, her fingers tracing shallow scratches near the latch. "They were in a hurry. The marks are…messy."

She looked up at Sela and Connel, her eyes wide with a mix of focus and lingering unease.

"If I were trying to keep a list useful but hidden, I think I would put it here."

She reached for the handle but stopped abruptly, her hand trembling just slightly as the reality of the situation pressed back in on her. She looked at the two Jedi, her voice small.

"Unless…unless one of you should check for traps first? I don't actually know if there are any."

She didn't move, waiting for their lead, the brief flicker of her academic confidence already beginning to retreat behind her usual mask of caution.

Connel Vanagor Connel Vanagor Sela Basran Sela Basran
 

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