Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private There's a Lot in Commenor

"Amazing! The civillian has taken the lead!"

Nix smiled, Lyra was holding her own, and had managed a point ahead of Colton, while Colton's simulated ship was spinning wildly after the first hit. He steadied it and spun his ship about, kicking the flight pedals to try and shift his ship back into pursuit. Colton, pressing a button, called for cover fire from his fleet - which offered about as much cover as the asteroid field had for Lyra.

He brought his ship around and took aim again. His attack wouldn't even the score but might shake Lyra and give him a chance to catch up to her. If she hit his ship twice more, the match would be over and he couldn't let that happen. "This'll show her," he said and fired a proton bomb, right at the nose of her ship. If this struck, it would end the match.

After his shot, he banked away, and checked his radar as he changed course.
 
"Colton misses completely! The Proton bomb he fired passes harmlessly through the asteroid field! He only has ONE proton bomb remaining. This has SEVERELY lowered his chance for victory. Cadets, pay close attention. This could easily end up being YOU if you become too desperate in a firefight." Shouted the Major over the booing cadets. Colton's cadre looked particularly disappointed. They'd all have liked to see Nix taken down a peg. Then again, there was a reason that Nix wasn't the one in the cockpit. None of the cadets had out-fought Nix yet. Seemed Nix had an eye for talent too. Lyra was already outpacing her expectations and making sport of Colton.
 
Inside the simulator, the world was reduced to telemetry and steady breathing. Lyra didn't flinch as the proton bomb streaked past her canopy, a brilliant smear of light that vanished into the silent dark of the asteroid field.

Her eyes flicked to the tactical display, noting the trajectory with clinical detachment.

Missed.

She exhaled a slow, controlled breath, her hands light but firm on the controls as the Porax-38 responded to her every whim. The cockpit's hum was a low, mechanical purr, grounding her amidst the drifting debris of the Anoat sector.

"Desperate already?" she murmured, her voice a cool contrast to the heat of the engagement.

On her sensors, Colton's fighter bloomed into a bright icon as he banked hard, scrambling to reset the line of sight. Lyra didn't give him the satisfaction of a panicked chase. Instead, she eased her fighter upward, skimming the jagged spine of an asteroid cluster. The massive rocks acted as a physical shield, masking her heat signature while her systems crunched the math.

Her thumb found the selector switch. A soft click, then the distinct, rhythmic chirp of the targeting computer.

Lock achieved.

She knew what Colton was seeing now: a crimson warning flashing across his HUD, screaming of an imminent hit. Lyra held the lock, a predator savoring the moment. One second. Two. Three. Her finger hovered over the firing stud, the tension in the cockpit coiled like a spring.

She didn't pull the trigger.

"Relax," she said, her voice drifting through the open comms with a hint of a smile. "Just checking the range."

The lock vanished as she snapped the selector back, but the reprieve was a trap. Lyra slammed the thrusters forward, the Porax-38 lunging like a hawk. She dove through a narrow, tumbling gap between two asteroids, the gap closing just as she cleared the light of the primary star.

The reticle tightened. The distance closed. She wasn't asking anymore.

Lyra squeezed the trigger. Twin bolts of red laser fire tore through the void, lancing toward Colton's engines. As the shots left her cannons, she rolled hard to starboard, her body straining against the simulated G-force as she kept him pinned firmly in her sights.

"Let's finish this."

Nixie Voidskipper Nixie Voidskipper
 
Colton realized he had one more chance to take the win, one more chance and it was all based on a miracle. His engines were thrumming with damage. He'd lost speed so now all he was doing was evading, dipping, spinning, juking and dodging. Then he took a sharp turn and banked into the asteroid field. Colton zipped past asteroids, and swung around the gravity field of the largest, coming around to aim his ship back at Lyra's speeding craft.

His targeting system whined. He wasn't going to leave this to chance this time. Colton was enraged, seeing red. No lowly commoner should be able to defeat an Imperial, especially one of high breeding like him. His hatred for Nix was pent up into this ball of rage and vitriol, and he transferred it all at once towards Lyra. He had his shot, but his target lock wasn't snapping into place. If he let it go, though he'd miss his chance. All at once he heard the targeting alarm snap and struck the release all at once.

The Proton Bomb released with a KER-CHUNK sound and flashed a hollow red light at the apex as the last of his bombs screamed towards Lyra's fighter. Colton banked at just that moment to avoid the blast... which he then waited for. He had one opportunity. At this rate, Lyra's next shot would be his last.

Lyra Ventor Lyra Ventor
 
Inside the cockpit, Lyra felt the subtle shift in the engagement's momentum long before the visual confirmation flickered across her HUD. Colton had finally stopped running, his tactical retreat collapsing into a desperate, aggressive gambit as he whipped his fighter around the gravity well of a massive, silicate-heavy asteroid and came screaming back toward her in a suicidal head-on pass.

Her eyes narrowed to sharp slits as the cockpit was suddenly bathed in the angry crimson glare of a proximity alert.

PROTON TORPEDO LAUNCH DETECTED

"There it is," she whispered, her voice a calm anchor in the center of the simulated storm.

With a fluid, practiced motion, she shoved the throttle to the stops and rolled hard to port, banking the Porax-38 just enough to let the incoming proton bomb streak past her canopy in a blinding, terrifying flash of red light. A second later, the warhead detonated against a drifting asteroid behind her, the resulting explosion rippling through the debris field in a silent, magnificent bloom of fire and shattered rock.

Lyra didn't waste a single heartbeat looking back at the wreckage; her fighter was already carving through a tight, high-G turn to capitalize on his overextension. Colton's damaged engines glowed with a frantic intensity on her sensor display, the simulation highlighting the cascade of weakened systems that were currently struggling to keep his Rogue-class craft stable in the wake of his maneuver.

It was the opening she had been waiting for. The perfect moment of vulnerability. Her targeting computer began a rapid, high-pitched chirp as she lined up perfectly behind his flickering engines, the diamond reticle snapping firmly onto his center mass.

LOCK ACQUIRED

This time, the predatory patience was gone. Her thumb slammed down on the secondary weapon stud, and the Porax-38 shuddered as a single proton torpedo tore away from its rack, trailing a brilliant wake of energy as it sought the heat of Colton's failing thrusters.

"Got you," she murmured, her finger already moving to the primary triggers.

Even before the torpedo could bridge the gap, she squeezed the trigger for her cannons, sending twin bolts of crimson laser fire lancing through the void to join the chase. She rolled the fighter smoothly, keeping her sights pinned to his tail as the energy bolts and the torpedo converged on the crippled target, knowing that if the simulation registered the impact, the match would be over in a single, final flash of light.

Nixie Voidskipper Nixie Voidskipper
 
As soon as the proton torpedo struck, and Colton's ship was destroyed, the simulation abruptly ended. The lights came on with a boom, and the cockpits of both simulators slowly lifted. Colton was covered in sweat and embarrassment, his face red with his former rage now dissipated with the anticipation of what was to come. All of the cadets and troopers, officers and soldiers were standing at attention, the vast room was completely silent. With the blaring white light now illuminating, one could see the walls now. Rows and rows of simulators, each flashing with individual reds and green indicator lights. Nix stood in salute, and the Major stepped forward. In his hand, he held a pad, which he lightly tapped. "The amount of ten-thousand credits to be transferred directly to your account. Cadet Colton Raith, step forward and turn over your arms." Colton looked sick when he heard that, but unstrapped his SE-14 R-Type Repeating Blaster from his thigh and offered the weapon, holster and all towards Lyra. The Major continued

"First, let's tally the official scores - Colton, I'm very disappointed in your performance. One confirmed kill against a computer controlled drones, two lost proton bombs, without a single scoring hit. You flew relatively well, but your targeting was equivelant to a newly suited Stormtrooper. You recieve zero marks. Lyra, Your punishment--" the Major lifted his eyes and passed them over Colton first, then the other cadets. "You will all run the length of the Reven and back. Together. You will not stop until completion. This should take until the evening to complete. You should begin now, if you'd like to be back before dinner is served in the mess hall." The other cadets groaned aloud. The Major gave an icy look to them, which Colton transferred to Lyra and Nix, before he turned to his friends. "Well? Come along then!" To which they reluctantly followed while Colton spun about and began jogging first, then running. He was gone before the Major spoke again.

"There aren't many Civilian awards in the Empire's displaced fleet, so I hope you will be fine making do with this," his hand rose and opened. In his palm was a silver pin with the Imperial logo and a pair of angular wings on each side. "This is an Imperial Flight Pin, awarded to Cadets who complete their first Space Battle. It's usually only awarded for actual combat, but I believe it is fitting, as Cadet Raith has flown in five combat space battles, and had yet to be defeated." A few murmurs passed but didn't last. Imperial discipline was legendary after all. "Very good then," the Major turned to the gathered Imperials. "Settle your wagers, and get back to your posts. You are dismissed."

"As for you," the Major turned back to Nix, "See your new friend back home. Take a shuttle to the planet and return immediately for your next duty assignment. Do not be late."
Then he faced Lyra. "You, however... there is always room for a new Cadet. Your display here would assure a quick rise in the ranks..." he said, but immediately read her expression, "...think on it, young lady. The Empire will always welcome a fine pilot such as yourself."

Lyra Ventor Lyra Ventor
 
The simulator canopy lifted with a soft hydraulic hiss, and Lyra blinked as the bright lights of the chamber flooded back in, replacing the digital void of the dogfight. As the mechanical hum of the machine faded, it was replaced by a heavy, expectant silence from the assembled Imperials. Lyra sat still for a heartbeat, allowing the last of the adrenaline to ebb from her system before unstrapping and climbing down from the cockpit.

Rows of officers, troopers, and cadets stood watching her, the weight of their collective attention palpable, yet she remained remarkably unrattled. Her posture remained easy, and the same calm confidence she possessed in flight settled over her naturally as she returned to the floor.

When the Major called Colton forward, her brow knit slightly with a touch of confusion while the stakes of the proceedings were laid bare: the blaster, the holster, and the ten thousand credits. Colton stepped forward, his face burning with visible humiliation as he held out the weapon. Lyra hesitated for a fraction of a second, glancing between the blaster and the Major as if to confirm this was truly happening, before taking the weapon with a small, polite nod.

"Thank you," she said simply, her voice devoid of gloating as she stepped back to join Nix.

She watched in silence as the punishment for the other cadets was handed down, her brow lifting faintly at the sound of their groans, though she wisely kept her thoughts to herself as Colton and his group began their long disciplinary run through the Star Destroyer.

When the Major finally turned his full attention back to her, Lyra straightened, her eyes widening in surprise as he opened his hand to reveal a silver pin. She accepted the small emblem with careful fingers, studying the intricate Imperial wings and crest for a moment before lifting her gaze back to him with genuine respect.

"Thank you, sir," she replied, pinning the insignia to her jacket.

However, when the Major made his offer regarding a future with the Empire, Lyra's expression softened into something thoughtful rather than eager. She inclined her head with diplomatic grace, offering an answer that carried no mockery, only a careful weighing of her options.

"I will think on it, sir."

As the tension of the formal address broke, she glanced toward Nix with the faintest hint of a smile, finally allowing the excitement of the victory to show through her professional mask.

"But for now," she added lightly, "I believe someone promised me a fizzy."

Nixie Voidskipper Nixie Voidskipper
 
Nixie saluted the Major, and turned to face Lyra, her lips twitching in a suppressed smile. "Let's go," she said and led Lyra through the ship back to the docking bay. Their boarding and flight back to the planet was uneventful, but for the absolute joy they shared in Lyra's victory. They landed back at the spaceport, and deboarded. It was still night time. They must have been gone only a couple hours, thanks to Lyra's quick and decisive defeat, and when they returned to the cafe, it was nearly empty.

Nix paid for their drinks and sat down at the table they'd chosen before their interruption. First, she placed the gyrocomputer there, and secondly, a felt bag clinking with coins. "Fifty thousand credits." She turned the bag over and divided them, pushing half to her. "Twenty-five for you," she grinned. "That's what I made off of wagering in favor of you. Nobody thought a girl from Commenor would be able to outfly and outshoot an Imperial Ace." The waiter droid brought their two fizzies and set them on the table.

"I've never seen so much money," she said. "This is almost enough to purchase a used ship, or a cadre of mechanics droids, or settle down for a year or two somewhere." She said, quietly placing the remaining coins in the pouch.

"You deserve it." Nix leaned back and sipped her drink. "Today was a very profitable day thanks almost entirely to you."

The lights buzzed and flickered as a ship rumbled overhead, headed to who-knows-where to do who-knows-what, but it reminded Nix that the universe was the playground of pilots, and that for someone like Lyra, who had all of that freedom and nothing holding her back, it represented absolute untethered independence.

"So what are you going to do with all of that?"

Lyra Ventor Lyra Ventor
 
Lyra watched the little pile of credits spill across the table with a soft, rhythmic clatter, the currency's metallic glint catching the café's dim, amber lights and reflecting in her wide eyes. For a long, silent moment, she simply stared at the wealth gathered between them, blinking once as if she were waiting for the image to dissolve like a desert mirage.

Then, the tension in her shoulders broke, and she let out a quiet, breathless laugh that seemed to carry the weight of several stressful days with it.

"Maker…I've seen fewer credits than this held together in an entire month's worth of cargo hauls," she murmured, reaching out to pick up one of the coins and turning it slowly between her fingers, still visibly stunned by the sheer weight of the amount.

When Nix pushed half the pile toward her with that effortless, knowing motion, Lyra instinctively opened her mouth to protest the generosity, but the stubborn, triumphant grin playing on Nix's face made it perfectly clear that the argument had already been decided before she could even start it.

Her eyes softened with a warmth that went beyond the room's glow, reflecting a deep, quiet gratitude for the gesture.

"You really didn't have to do that, you know; we both know who did the heavy lifting out there," she said, though she couldn't hide the relief in her voice as she eventually pulled the small stack toward herself, resting her forearms on the scratched table as she studied the credits.

At the mention of her victory over an Imperial ace, her smile shifted, growing a little more relaxed and infused with a touch of genuine pride that she usually kept tucked away.

"My mother was a decorated ace long before I ever touched a control yoke," she explained simply, glancing up from the table with a spark of legacy in her gaze. "I'd like to think I got the instinct for the sky and the steady hands from her, even if she'd rather I used them for something a bit safer."

She gave a light, easy shrug, as if the ability to outmaneuver the galaxy's finest pilots was just a natural byproduct of her lineage rather than an extraordinary feat.

"My father is the one who taught me how to talk to the machines, though, so I suppose I ended up as a bit of a hybrid. Part pilot, part grease-monkey, and a whole lot of restless."

The waiter droid arrived with their fizzies, the condensation already bubbling over the rims, and Lyra gratefully wrapped her hands around the cold glass, taking a long, refreshing sip before setting it down carefully beside her new fortune.

When Nix shifted the conversation toward her plans for the windfall, the hesitation vanished instantly, replaced by the sharp, focused energy of a true spacer.

Her grin turned more than a little mischievous, the kind of look that usually preceded a very expensive trip to a hangar bay.

"Ship upgrades, without a single second of doubt," she declared, tapping the table rhythmically with one finger as if she were already punching the orders into a terminal. "I've been eyeing some high-output thrusters for a while now, and if the market is right, I might finally be able to overhaul that glitchy targeting array that nearly cost us a shield cycle back there."

Her eyes drifted briefly toward the café window, following the distant, silver streaks of ships crossing the darkening sky as she calculated the possibilities in her head.

"And if I can manage to stretch these credits just a little bit further, I might even be looking at a reinforced shield booster to make sure we're not sweating quite as much next time the TIEs start swarming."

She turned her attention back to Nix, the playful grin still firmly in place as she leaned in slightly.

"But enough about my shopping list. What about you?"

Her gaze flicked meaningfully toward the remaining pile of credits still sitting in front of Nix, her expression curious and supportive.

"You just made enough to buy yourself a very respectable start on whatever path you're looking to carve out for yourself next."

She lifted her fizzy in a mock toast, her eyes dancing with anticipation for his answer.

"So, now that the galaxy is wide open and your pockets are full…what's the plan, Ace?"

Nixie Voidskipper Nixie Voidskipper
 
"Talk to machines? I'm not sure what you mean by that. I can tell what droids are saying, and I'll tell you for the most part, it's not very interesting. I can fine tune a Hyperdrive, or fabricate a bi-link for a sensor array with the best of them, but what you've got is genuine talent." Nix leaned back and snatched her fizzy with a smooth motion. She was just as arrogant as any Imperial - she and Colton were pretty well cut from the same cloth in spite of their very different social standing. The difference was that Nix and Lyra were on the same side, and fast becoming friends. Which, to be fair, was a big difference. Sometimes your enemy was just as bad as your friends, it made all the difference that they were your friends.

"You could go anywhere, and do anything. Me? I'm a dog of the military." She grinned, "I'd be happy with that if-" she leaned in on her elbows. "-I overheard a comm link while we were flying down. I'm probably not supposed to share this, but the Empire has had all their ships recalled back to bloody who-knows-where. We're supposed to be rendezvousing with another fleet to join some kind of Remnant. We've lost all of our resources, money, planets. There won't be a lot of TIE fighters swarming about." She leaned slowly back again and sipped her fizzy.

"I guess I'm free to do what I want," she considered. "There's really nothing keeping me here. Always wanted to fly for the Empire, but there's really no Empire anymore is there? I could try my hand at rebuilding it, I guess." She looked around for a moment. "But my guess is that there'll be a Republic for the next twenty years or so before there's an Empire again, and I bloody-well don't want to wait until I'm thirty."

Nix turned a credit around and flipped it across the back of her fingers, then placed it edge-first on their table and flicked it where it spun in place. Nix leaned on her elbow watching it turn. "I'm not exactly rich, but whatever I plan to do, I'm going to need quite a few more of these."

Lyra Ventor Lyra Ventor
 
Lyra remained remarkably still, her fingers curled loosely around the condensation-slicked glass of her drink as she absorbed the cadence of Nix's words. There was a certain resonance in the other woman's easy confidence, and the faint, shifting current of uncertainty beneath it, that felt achingly familiar, a shared frequency that Lyra recognized but hadn't yet found the right vocabulary to describe.

When the conversation turned toward the Empire's receding influence, a subtle flicker of recognition crossed Lyra's features, far removed from mere surprise. It was a truth pilots always seemed to register before the rest of the galaxy caught on; they felt the weight of the change in the atmosphere long before the news reached the inner rims. They were the ones who noticed the sky growing unnervingly quiet, the trade routes bleeding into emptiness, and the way opportunities didn't just disappear; they shifted into something entirely new.

She took a slow, deliberate sip of her fizzy, letting the carbonation bite before setting the glass back down on the table with a gentle, resonant click.

"It sounds as though the galaxy has finally decided to open up for you," she observed, her voice dropping into a register that was calm, thoughtful, and unmistakably warm.

Her gaze dipped briefly to the spinning credit, her attention captured by the way it began to wobble and hum with a soft, metallic vibration against the tabletop.

"You don't strike me as the type of person who is content to sit idly by, waiting for someone else to build a future or a ship that's actually worth flying for," she added, a genuine, faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "In fact, you sound like someone who would much rather head out into the black and find it for yourself."

The warmth in her eyes lingered as her focus shifted toward the gyrocomputer resting between them, the undisputed prize of the evening, and she reached out to tap the casing with a light, almost reverent touch of her finger.

"So…" she began, tilting her head just enough to let a lock of blonde hair fall across her brow, her curiosity blooming into something more substantial. "I find myself wondering what you actually intend to do with a piece of tech this significant?"

She lifted her gaze back to Nix, the weight of the question lingering in the air with a new, shared intimacy.

"Because carrying something like this around…" she finished, offering a small, knowing look that suggested she understood the gravity of the situation better than she let on, "…it truly feels like the beginning of a much larger story."

Nixie Voidskipper Nixie Voidskipper
 
"All I wanted was one thing, my whole life. Freedom. Then I got the opportunity to fly for the Empire, and I realized freedom could never give me that. The fastest ships, the most powerful blasters, and a squadron to command." And then Nix smiled. "Truth is, I could probably have that anywhere."

"I guess..." she hesitated "...it was really about having the family I'd never had."
She paused, letting the coin wobble and fall over when the energy was all used up, eaten away by the environment. A thing that didn't happen in space. Nixie loved that about flying. In space, a rogue planet could fly by and sweep your fighter up in the momentum, send it spinning without warning. Every flight path needed to be calculated by each nearby gravitational body. Every planet nearby, every giant planet, every star, and even a black hole lightyears away.

"I was an orphan. Not even that. I was dumped like garbage in the garbage part of a garbage city, on a garbage planet." Nix's eyes shot up, flashing blue when they met Lyra's. "I hadn't seen a tree until I came here. That's why it was so easy to navigate through that dump. That place feels like home. Garbage, and lots of it."

Lyra diverted their conversation to the gyrocomputer, and then considered. "I was going to let you have it. Send you on an unforgettable adventure," She said, but then continued slowly, "...but nnnooow..." she reached out and turned it over, "I think there's two more missing parts, and a much bigger fourth part that would complete the set... and with a ship like that," she mused in a mildly sing-song tone, "we could go anywhere, and do anything. We could scavenge artifacts on Dathomir, or see a Jedi temple. We could haul for the Hutts, or mercenary for Black Sun." Her eyes shot open wide. "We could bloody well fly with the Purrgil if we bloody well wanted to."

"We could do all of that and still end up on the bloody bridge of a bloody Star Destroyer if I... if we wanted to."
She sipped her fizzy long and slow. "But for now, we can rig this into just about any model of Corellian light freighter, but it's meant to be mounted in the hull of a YT-1300 because of the way it spins--" Nix held out her hand, thumb and pinky jutting out and mimicked the way a YT-1300 spins like a saucer, "--just like the hull of that ship in the junkyard where we got this. They're not that rare, or at least they weren't that rare thousands of years ago, before the plague. I've heard a lot of them are still in service today. If we want to find the parts, that's where we should look first. Corellian fleet yards, cargo-ship dumps, scrapyards."

Nix leaned forward looking serious. "If we really want one, we should look in one of those decommissioned shipyards with loads of ships that haven't even been ripped apart yet. We could even find a whole one--likely we'd have a problem finding one that wasn't completely stripped, but that's where this--" she patted the cube one more time "--would come in nicely. If we can, we should find the ship first. Then we should figure out what parts it needs, and put it back together. Then we can st--" she stopped "--take it. Maybe even buy it outright." She looked thoughtful. "You know, a few of these don't even have chain codes because they're pre-Old Empire."

Lyra Ventor Lyra Ventor
 
Lyra listened without interrupting this time, her usual restless energy settling into a rare, focused stillness as she truly absorbed everything Nix was saying. Her fingers rested lightly against the condensation on her glass, but she didn't lift it to drink, her attention remaining fixed on the subtle shift in Nix's voice and the way her practiced confidence seemed to give way to something much more raw and honest underneath. When Nix finally finished, Lyra remained quiet for a long moment, letting the weight of the words settle in the space between them before she finally leaned back in her chair with an expression that was softer and more grounded than it had been all night.

"You know, my life isn't exactly glamorous," she said gently, her gaze drifting toward the café window where the silhouettes of distant ships cut across the night sky in quiet, shimmering arcs of light. "It's mostly just a cycle of long, lonely flights, hunting down broken parts, counting tight credits, and spending way too much time fixing things that probably should've been scrapped and replaced years ago."

A faint, genuine smile touched her lips as she looked back at Nix with something steady and remarkably certain in her eyes.

"But for all the grease and the stress, it's mine, and I have my freedom, which is something a lot of people in this galaxy never even get a taste of."

Her fingers began to tap a rhythmic, upbeat cadence against the table near the gyrocomputer, and that small smile grew into something much warmer and more infectious.

"And honestly? Being a pilot is the best thing in the entire galaxy, hands down, and I wouldn't trade the cockpit for a palace."

With a decisive movement, Lyra reached out and nudged the data cube back toward Nix, her voice lacking even a shred of hesitation as she spoke.

"I've already got my ship, so I don't need the credits, but I'm definitely going to help you build yours because the galaxy needs more people who give a damn about their engines."

Her tone carried a quiet, stubborn conviction, making it clear that the decision had been made the second Nix started talking about the possibility of a project.

"We're going to find the perfect hull, we'll track down every rare part we need, and we're going to make that thing fly better than the day it rolled off the line."

A spark of pure, teenage excitement finally slipped through her composed exterior, and she leaned forward until she was squarely meeting Nix's eyes.

"And when it's finally airworthy, then we can go see every single one of those places you just listed, and we'll do it entirely on our own terms."

She flashed a wide, playful grin that took years off her face and made her look every bit the nineteen-year-old dreamer she was.

"Just try and stop me from tagging along."

Nixie Voidskipper Nixie Voidskipper
 
"I'm not, but howabout our ship? I have always wanted to find and rebuild my dream ship, the Chiss Clawcraft TIE variant." She smiled thinly. She fought one in a combat simulation and had never gotten over the maneuverability and adaptability of the alien version.

"They have better firepower than even the First Order ships, and it's thirty years younger." She clearly loved the thought. Her face looked like an old person reminiscing over a lost love.

Her hand reached over and landed directly on the gyrocomputer but she didn't push it back.

"We have a lot in common, you know." She said, her eyes glancing around, but she didn't say it. Nix didn't really like puns.

Lyra's excitement was infectious though, and Nixie caught herself becoming just as excited. Lyra leaned forward, and so did Nix. Her hand fell off the cube and landed on the back of Lyra's.

"We'll go to every old shipyard that ever bloody was," she grinned "we'll cash in every favor, and scrape every credit, we'll have more adventures and stories than any of these losers, and maybe we'll find my deadbeat dad and stomp his bloody face in--" her eyes went wide and she withdrew for a moment.

"Um... or whatever, you know? We'll do everything, go everywhere. Meet the Wookies, the Trandoshans, maybe the Genosians. I hear they've miraculously repopulated." She shrugs, looks away for a second, and then looks suddenly back. "No Gungans though."

Then she started laughing and lifted her drink. "To the Galaxy, and whatever waits for us there!"

Lyra Ventor Lyra Ventor
 

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