Private The Still Between Storms

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Unknown

Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic | Cybernetic Arm

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The world had no name he could find. No settlements. No satellites. Not even a trace of charted trade routes. Just an expanse of pale stone and whispering grass, endless under a bruised sky. That was enough for him.​

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Ace sat cross-legged on the lip of a ridge, the wind tugging faintly at his olive jumpsuit, the hum of the air thick with life. Below, the valley breathed, slow and steady, like the galaxy itself had fallen asleep. Tic rested beside him in standby, one photoreceptor dimmed to a quiet pulse.​

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He'd been here for days. Maybe a week. The Flickerfox sat hidden in a ravine to the north, collecting dust while he tried to do what he thought battle could - make sense of himself.​

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The Force wound around him, a current he didn't fight. Not light, not dark. Just motion. He followed it, hands loose in his lap, prosthetic fingers tracing slow, unconscious patterns. Every breath drew the world in; every exhale let it go again.​

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Sometimes the silence cracked. A scream from the Death Star. The smoke of Clan Vethrisa. Sibylla's voice fading into the static between heartbeats. They came like echoes through the current, not sharp enough to hurt anymore, but enough to remind him what he'd burned to get here.​

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The Force whispered back, not in words but in sensation... the faint pull of gravity that meant something was shifting nearby. A new thread brushing against his own. It was familiar in that strange way the Force always was: the kind of recognition that felt older than memory.​

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Ace's eyes opened, dark brown meeting the horizon's haze. The wind had changed direction.​

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Quinn Varanin​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Acier Moonbound //:
//: Attire //:

It wasn't often Quinn wandered alone, in the middle of nature, of all places. She was a city girl, a princess, and one who enjoyed her pampered life. But the Force always called. When it did, someone like Quinn followed, wondering what was at the other end of it.

Sometimes there were answers that one didn't realize they were looking for. Today was something like that. Quinn had been wandering, taking in the Force at its purest. Not dark, not light, just the Force.

It was a state she longed for, to feel the perfection of balance between the light and the dark. Yet no matter how hard she trained, how much effort she put into controlling her darker tendencies, the light would forever remain almost entirely out of reach.

She felt it. The constant reminder of what she was and what she always would be. The Phobis Core pulsed, and its voices lingered among the voices of Sith tied to her lineage.

The Emperor's Echo.

Voices of those who had drowned themselves in the dark side of the Force. Becoming entities that ruled the Sith Legions with a fist of power. She could hear them whispering secrets and promises of power. There were too many, her being the progeny of the Dark Side and the Phobis Core with its condemned.

Fortunately, those around her were free from the torture. Quinn had learned, quickly at a young age, to bind the voices to her own mind — locking them away so that no one else could feel the dreadful horrors that bled from her in the Force. Unlike others, unlike those assumed to be great, Quinn padded in the Force.

Her power, a mere whisper of strength, lingered to feign her actual presence.

It was because of this that she was able to be around others. But here in the wilderness, she often wondered what it would be like to just release herself — to let it all spill out with no restraint.

To actually be free of the soul-crushing machine.

Instead of letting herself go, Quinn stopped — stumbling across someone. Her footsteps were light as she moved closer and saw a familiar figure.

"You are the last person I'd assume to be out here." Her voice was light and teasing, though she kept her guard up. The boy didn't harm her the last time they met, but she could sense something…

Different.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Unknown

Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic | Cybernetic Arm

Her voice slipped through the wind like a ripple over still water. When he turned his head, the horizon seemed to bend with it, pulling her silhouette into focus through the haze.

He studied her for a moment longer than was polite. The last time they'd met, the air between them had been sharp; two people standing on opposite edges of the same fault line. Now, it just felt quiet.

"Who did you expect to find out here?" He said at last. His voice was low, even, but there was something softer beneath it. Pivoting, he added, "Life's had a funny way of throwing interesting people at me."

He shifted his hand slightly, prosthetic fingers flexing against his knee before settling again.

"You followed it too?" He asked, glancing toward the valley rather than her, like he was speaking to the current itself instead of the woman standing in it.

Seeing Quinn now was... different. The first time they'd met, she was a stranger. Now, the two were tied together in a way that shouldn't have surprised him at this point.

After meeting the Sith Empress, he'd learned that she was once apprenticed to his father. And Quinn was her daughter, adopted, but... semantics. Aether and Quinn had grown up together, too.

Their family history was rich, intertwined. In a way, looking at her now, almost felt like looking at family. He wondered if she was even aware of his lineage.

Finally, he stood but didn't close the distance. The air of silence hung for a few moments as Ace studied her - her pale skin and hair, her black jumpsuit that looked like she was here for more than leisure.

Her presence in the Force? That was something else entirely. If Ace hadn't been meditating, if the whole planet wasn't humming against his senses, he might've missed her entirely. Most Sith arrived like a blade sliding into the seam of your armor; Quinn was… muted. Soft on the surface. Deliberately dimmed maybe. He wondered what kind of power she hid behind it all.

Yet she didn't feel like the others. There wasn't malice rolling off her or cold hunger or that jagged predatory push most Sith carried like perfume.

Despite it all, Ace wasn't afraid of her. Just… attentive.

"I don't want to fight." He said, folding his arms. "Putting that behind me for a little while. You can loosen your posture."

Quinn Varanin ​