Acier Moonbound
Forcebound Rebel
Location: Olega
He hadn't meant to come to Olega. The navpath wasn't planned, it was just an idle flick of controls and a silence deep enough to drown in. One blink, and hyperspace folded back into realspace. The planet hung below, gray seas breaking against black cliffs, a citadel of old stone crouched above the surf. From orbit it looked like something half-forgotten, stubbornly enduring. Sounded familiar.
Maybe the Force had gotten bored of waiting. He descended the Flickerfox through the clouds and Olega City faded into view. The landing pads clung to the cliffside, metal platforms bolted into ancient stone. When the ramp lowered, Tic clambered out first, photoreceptor flickering.
Ace followed, squinting against the light. The air was warm and clean, the horizon stretching endless over the sea. The sand-colored streets were alive with noise and, even with Ace's connection to the Force rattled, he could sense the faint buzz of the city.
Tic chirped occasionally, scanning everything that hummed or sparked. The sound was oddly grounding. Meanwhile, the sun flashed off his white locs and the matte metal of his prosthetic. His steps matched the rhythm of the city. Each movement sent a faint vibration through the synthetic plating of his arm, an echo of his heartbeat, out of sync but stubbornly present.
He could feel the Force, like sunlight casting through clouds. The current pulled him along... somewhere, Ace didn't know but he wasn't going to fight it. Then he felt it, down the street, a noodle shop sat open to the afternoon air. Weird, of all places, the Force drew him here?
Tic let out a questioning trill. Ace stopped at the threshold, eyes narrowing. Inside, a handful of locals sat over their bowls. The smell of broth, oil, and char filled the air. It was an ordinary place, completely unremarkable, but something beneath it stirred him. There was a presence here, calm and familiar in a way he couldn't name.
He caught his reflection in the window: the scar at his cheek, the white hair, the faint metallic glint of his left hand. Ace didn't know why the Force had brought him here.
Romi Jade
Maybe the Force had gotten bored of waiting. He descended the Flickerfox through the clouds and Olega City faded into view. The landing pads clung to the cliffside, metal platforms bolted into ancient stone. When the ramp lowered, Tic clambered out first, photoreceptor flickering.
Ace followed, squinting against the light. The air was warm and clean, the horizon stretching endless over the sea. The sand-colored streets were alive with noise and, even with Ace's connection to the Force rattled, he could sense the faint buzz of the city.
Tic chirped occasionally, scanning everything that hummed or sparked. The sound was oddly grounding. Meanwhile, the sun flashed off his white locs and the matte metal of his prosthetic. His steps matched the rhythm of the city. Each movement sent a faint vibration through the synthetic plating of his arm, an echo of his heartbeat, out of sync but stubbornly present.
He could feel the Force, like sunlight casting through clouds. The current pulled him along... somewhere, Ace didn't know but he wasn't going to fight it. Then he felt it, down the street, a noodle shop sat open to the afternoon air. Weird, of all places, the Force drew him here?
Tic let out a questioning trill. Ace stopped at the threshold, eyes narrowing. Inside, a handful of locals sat over their bowls. The smell of broth, oil, and char filled the air. It was an ordinary place, completely unremarkable, but something beneath it stirred him. There was a presence here, calm and familiar in a way he couldn't name.
He caught his reflection in the window: the scar at his cheek, the white hair, the faint metallic glint of his left hand. Ace didn't know why the Force had brought him here.
Romi Jade