Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private This Was Not Part of the Plan

Xian should have known the job was going too smoothly, because nothing involving an abandoned military research vault, a mysteriously generous employer, and a partner who smiled a little too easily at danger ever stayed simple for long. The approach to the compound had been effortless, almost suspiciously so; the exterior panels had sliced open under her touch without protest, and the security feeds died so neatly under Jerrik's careful interference that she almost believed, for a fleeting moment, that the Force was doing her a favor.

The vault door itself—an enormous slab of reinforced durasteel covered in dust thick enough to write her name in—had opened with barely more resistance than a polite sigh.

She should have run right then.

But instead they stepped inside, retrieved the encrypted datapack pulsing softly in its containment cradle, and turned to leave… only for the entire undercity facility to wake like something startled out of a long and unpleasant sleep.

The first alarm didn't ring—it howled, an echoing metallic wail that rattled her teeth and sent a shock of cold adrenaline straight down her spine. Red emergency lights flickered to life in jagged pulses, painting the corridor walls in violent shades of crimson as blast shutters slammed down in rapid succession, their booms shaking dust from the ceiling like falling ash. The ground beneath their boots thrummed with power as dormant systems surged online, one after another, like dominoes falling in reverse.

Xian skidded to a halt, boots scraping against the metal grating as she threw a look over her shoulder at Jerrik. "Oh stars—Jerrik, run!"

They didn't need to discuss direction; instinct and panic made that decision for them. They sprinted down the corridor, the datapack thumping against her hip in a relentless rhythm that matched the frantic beat of her pulse. Whatever information they had stolen—whatever their employer wanted so badly—it was very clearly something this place was willing to kill for.

She didn't get time to study the old insignias lining the hallway—tattered banners depicting a forgotten unit, peeling paint spelling out half-dead warnings—because one of the symbols unfolded itself into a ceiling-mounted turret and immediately greeted her with a bolt of blasterfire that sliced the air beside her cheek.

"Fantastic," she hissed as she dove behind a pillar, landing hard enough to bruise her knees as sparks snapped across the floor. "So the building wasn't abandoned."

Another bolt exploded against the stone near her face, showering her hair in grit. She pressed herself flat against the pillar, heart hammering, the scent of scorched metal thick in the air. The lights flickered once—twice—before stabilizing into a dangerous red glow. Somewhere deeper in the facility, something massive groaned awake, the kind of mechanical rumble that suggested more limbs and weapons than she felt remotely comfortable imagining.

A cold shiver crawled down her spine. Whatever had powered on wasn't a simple turret.

She peeked around the pillar just long enough to confirm that the weapon was still tracking them, then glanced across the corridor to where Jerrik crouched behind a half-collapsed support beam. Even through the haze of smoke and flashing lights, she caught his expression—the unmistakable spark of someone who had just realized that a mildly interesting job had escalated into something spectacularly life-threatening.

Their eyes met in the brief quiet between blaster bursts.

Xian exhaled once, steadying herself, willing the subtle currents of air at her fingertips to gather enough force to carry her through the next mad dash. Not flight, not yet—but motion, speed, a breath of wind pushing her toward survival.

"Okay!" she called out, voice low but firm, letting the Force sharpen the edges of her focus. "New plan." Three fresh lines of red targeting lasers slid slowly across the walls, finding their positions like predators settling into a hunting stance. "Run first," she added, a crooked grin tugging at the edge of her mouth despite the chaos around them. "Figure out the brilliant part on the way out." Behind them, another blast shutter slammed into place with a metallic snarl, sealing the corridor like a tomb. Time was no longer on their side, if it ever had been.

She didn't know if the facility's reactivated defenses were automated or controlled by something worse. She didn't know whether the footsteps she heard in the distance belonged to droids, guards, or something she didn't have a name for. But she did know, with a strange sense of calm blossoming in her chest, that running for her life beside Jerrik was still better than running alone.

Xian tightened her grip on the datapack, feeling the wind coil eagerly around her ankles.

"Hope you stretched," she murmured, more to herself than to him.

Then she bolted from cover. The undercity roared awake behind them as the chase began.

Jerrik Molten Jerrik Molten
 

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This heist was just the beginning of something more but for now, it seemed as if their every action was impeccable, allowing Jerrik and Xian to advance through the Military Research Vault with ease and little security to deal with. If everything were to go correctly, both Xian and Jerrik would make it out with extremely valuable information that would allow them to likely retire early. But, if things were to go south, then both of them could end up in some galactic prison for the rest of their lives. Would this mission be worth it in the end?

Jerrik knelt down at the vault door, placing the data spike within, then began to access the proper codes to ensure the door would open without causing any of the alarms to be triggered. Numbers crossed the screen display, showing exactly the correct code to get inside. "Almost done.." He muttered quietly, while sweat began to form at the brow of the young man. Within a few seconds of waiting for the codes to lock in, the vault made a few clanking sounds before ripping open. Both Jerrik and Xian entered the room without wasting any time at all, and Xian quickly grabbed the device from its resting place. That was the first mistake made by the duo..

The alarms rang out, echoing throughout every hallway, every office, every corridor within the facility. "And the fun begins." He said playfully, while exiting the vault with one hand on their lightsaber that was attached at the hip of Jerrik Molten. He was more than prepared for anything that may come their way, but even more prepared to protect the very thing they came for from the start. The encrypted datapack was Jerrik’s way to escape his former life and to become something larger than just a thief that is Force Sensitive.

When Xian yelled out to him, Jerrik knew that the time was now. He pushed off the grated floor with their right foot, darting into a sprint directly beside Xian. Neither of them seemed to know where to go because of the adrenaline bouncing through them from the excitement of not only stealing something, but the fact that they were now on the run because of the alarms being set off. Being caught was not an option, so Jerrik continued on with one thing on their mind, and that was to escape with Xian and the encrypted datapack.

Just when they thought the escape would be easy, mounted turrets hung from the ceiling of the room in which they made it to. Both of them breathing heavily from the long sprint to their current location. What caught Jerrik’s attention was the sound of the turret firing directly at the female. Luckily, Xian was barely phased from the blaster bolt that nearly took their head off, but she managed to duck behind a pillar safely, so Jerrik did the same just in case the turrets were going to open fire on him next. They did, unleashing a few blaster bolts in his direction. The young man managed to fall forward into a roll, then slide to the pillar he was now sitting behind with their back against the cold stone.

As the turrets continued to open fire at both pillars simultaneously, shattering pieces of stone across the room from the sheer power of each blaster bolt that made contact with the pillars, Jerrik glanced over at Xian as she made a suggestion for him to run first. Was she crazy?! At that very moment, Jerrik thought so, but then again, Xian seemed to have some sort of plan. With a confident nod from Jerrik Molten, his heart pumped furiously and his mind raced, but in a split second he twisted his body around, jumped to his feet, and darted across the corridor in hopes of not being struck by one of the turrets hanging from the ceiling.

Death began to fill the air, chilling the warmth to a subtle chill that caused the hair on each of them to stand up straight at attention, as if the force was warning them of something to come. Whatever it was, Jerrik knew that he had to keep pace, or he would be blasted in the back. Blaster bolts were flying past him, nearly grazing his ear, shoulder, and right leg. Unfortunately, the young man was struck directly upon the buttcheek, causing Jerrik to fall forward behind yet another pillar. "GAH!!" Escaped their lips, as he laid up behind the pillar with one hand covering the new wound.

Jerrik had a feeling something would eventually go wrong, but he never thought that he would end up being struck on the ass by a blaster bolt, and the worst part was the fact that he was only wearing his black robes with no real protection, even the cortosis coated helmet was left at the ship. The pain pulsated throughout their buttcheek, causing him to wince from the pain. He didn’t give up, though. Jerrik looked back to see what Xian was doing to escape the turrets, hoping that she would not end up with the same fate as him.



 
Xian didn't panic when the alarms screamed to life.

The sound hit her like a spike of ice down the spine, sharp and instant, but her mind snapped into motion just as fast. The datapack was already in her hands, its weight insignificant compared to the sudden pressure flooding the corridors. She didn't waste time looking back at the vault door. What was done was done.

When the turrets descended, metal arms unfolding from the ceiling like predatory insects, Xian felt the shift in the air immediately. Heat-tracking. Of course they were.

She skidded in behind the pillar as blasterfire tore into the stone, fragments exploding outward in showers of sparks and dust. The impact rattled through her bones, but she stayed low, breathing hard, dark eyes flicking toward Jerrik just long enough to see him take cover as well. His shout a moment later made her stomach twist, sharp concern flaring through the Force.

Idiot, she thought—not unkindly. Brave idiot.

"Okay," she muttered under her breath, more to herself than anyone else. "Then we do this loud."

Xian closed her eyes for half a second—not to retreat, but to listen. The hum of the facility. The crackle of overheated barrels. The way the turrets adjusted, recalibrating toward the strongest thermal signatures in the room.

She smiled grimly.

Her free hand lifted, palm open, fingers flexing as she reached outward—not pulling, not forcing, but inviting the heat to gather. The air in front of her warped, shimmering as the temperature spiked violently. With a sharp exhale, she hurled a compact fireball down the opposite end of the corridor, then another, and another—each one a dense knot of heat designed to scream louder than any living body ever could.

The effect was immediate.

Turrets whined as they pivoted, barrels tracking the sudden surge of thermal mass. Blasterfire redirected in a furious storm, bolts shredding the far wall as Xian broke from cover, sprinting hard across the corridor while their attention was split. Stone cracked behind her, debris raining down, but she kept moving, boots pounding, lungs burning.

She slid in beside Jerrik behind the next pillar, skidding on one knee before snapping upright, one hand already reaching out instinctively to steady him.

"You good?" she asked quickly, breathless but focused, eyes flicking to the scorched wound before snapping back up toward the corridor. There was no time to linger, but the concern was real, immediate.

The turrets were already recalibrating again, their movements sharper now, angrier.

Xian glanced past him, then back, firelight still dancing faintly around her fingers. "Next break I make is bigger," she said, tone steady despite the chaos. "When I throw it—run. Don't stop."

Another wave of heat gathered in the air around her hand, brighter this time, hotter, ready.

"On my mark," Xian added, eyes locked forward, the Force coiling tight around her as the facility tried—and failed—to pin them down.

Jerrik Molten Jerrik Molten
 

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The pain only lasted a short time because as Jerrik held onto the wound, the force began to heal the wound from the turret’s blaster bolt. When Xian asked if he was good, the young darksider nodded confidently before speaking. "Yeah, just needed a moment, that’s all." He admitted, while pulling their hand away from the newly healed wound. Jerrik was still behind the pillar, listening to the chaos around them. The turrets quit firing because both Xian and Jerrik were unable to be seen at the moment. This was the perfect time to recuperate and plan ahead.

With the turrets recalibrating their systems to mark their next heat signature, Xian had a plan and it involved the force. It was risky, but it would ultimately give the duo enough time to exit the corridor, then try to find another way to escape. It felt as if the entire undercity was looking for them both and Jerrik absolutely loved the thrill that missions like this gave him. The feeling alone was intoxicating, almost having him wanting to come back for more, but the young man wasn’t as dumb or greedy as most thought. There was always a cooldown for things like this, especially if they wanted to remain unnoticed from prying eyes.

Xian’s suggestion was not their last hope, nor did they feel as if they were trapped because of the sheer power that both of them possessed. Things could easily turn with the guidance of the force and that was exactly what they would use to make it through the corridor and into the next part of the facility. The main goal was to get back to their ship now that the datapack was in their possession, so a couple of turrets would not hold them back from getting away with the prized device. "You do know that I haven’t seen anyone so calm in such a situation before. Takes guts, I dig it." He called out from behind the pillar, hoping that Xian would hear the compliment given during such a wild situation.

As the young woman prepared to conjure the force as some sort of distraction, Jerrik finally stood up from behind the pillar, making sure that he was still hidden from the two turrets hanging on the wall. He grabbed the lightsaber hilt from his waist, pulled it from the utility belt, and held onto the weapon tightly. Whatever was about to happen inside this facility, Jerrik and Xian were about to make a break for it on her call, so he nodded to the female and waited patiently for the signal to run. For a moment, it felt as if time was still and the attempt to escape dragged on forever, but that was not the case entirely. The force was guiding him, pushing him to sense what was to come from the other side of the facility…


 
Xian didn't answer him right away.

They were moving again—boots striking metal, alarms still howling somewhere deeper in the facility—but there was a lull between corners, a stretch of corridor where the noise fell back just enough for words to exist without being swallowed. She kept her eyes forward as she ran, breath even, stride measured, as if they weren't fleeing a military vault with half the undercity waking up behind them.

"You said I was calm," she said at last, voice level, almost conversational. Not breathless. Not rushed. She flicked her hand once, a small guiding gesture to keep left at the next junction, then continued without looking at him.

"It's not because I'm fearless." The admission came easily. Too easily, maybe. "I've seen what panic does," she went on. "I grew up around people who didn't have time to stop being afraid—worlds where the sky burned, where soldiers moved through streets like storms and nobody bothered screaming because it didn't help."

A brief pause. Her jaw tightened, then eased. "The Jedi taught me how to breathe through that. How to stand still when everything around you is loud and broken and falling apart." She exhaled slowly as they cleared another turn. "Not because it makes you stronger. Because it keeps you alive." Another flicker of Force-sense rolled out ahead of them, checking corners, counting threats. The turrets behind them were already fading into irrelevance.

"And I've been in real fights," she added, quieter now. "Ones where people didn't miss. Ones where you didn't get a warning hum before the shot." She glanced sideways at him then, just once, dark eyes steady, almost gentle. "So when it's just machines? Predictable ones?" A faint, wry edge touched her voice. "It doesn't make sense to panic. They don't hate you. They don't improvise. They just react."

Her focus snapped forward again as they reached another access split. "Fear's useful," Xian finished. "But only if you're the one holding it. Not the other way around." She raised a hand, already preparing the next move, the next distraction, the next escape. "Now run," she said calmly. "I'll tell you the rest when we're not about to get ventilated."

Jerrik Molten Jerrik Molten
 

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The running never really ended for Jerrik Molten. Even as a young child he managed to escape the grasp of the Jedi. They knew what he was capable of and wanted to mold him into one of them, and the young boy wanted nothing to do with it. A mere Padawan learner with a life of greatness ahead of them, but he squandered it because of selfish reasons. Family. A family that wanted nothing to do with him when he returned mysteriously, so he did the unimaginable. Jerrik killed them without any remorse, causing him to be alone for as long as he could remember. It was a terrible choice, one that he has to live with the rest of their life.

As the alarms began to fade into the background, Xian was able to speak freely now, responding to Jerrik’s statement about her ability to remain calm in such situations. Their response was detailed, to say the least, and it was enough to bring chills down the spine of Jerrik Molten. This girl knew what she was talking about when it came to the force, but Jerrik was nearly clueless, barely even knowing how to use it. It would only come and go in times of need, just as it did earlier when the young man healed himself. Xian on the other hand was trained well, precise with their actions and words, almost enough for anyone to follow their lead, and that was exactly what Jerrik was doing for the time being.

The mere mention of the Jedi caused Jerrik to quickly jerk their attention towards Xian, putting together exactly why she was this way. Their training was rigorous, intellectual, and spiritual all in one. Something that Jerrik could not get used to, which eventually caused him to flee the temple altogether. That is exactly why he took on stealing things for a living. It was easy pay and he was too good at it to just not get involved with the big guns, because that is where all the bigger payouts would have been. Bigger names, bigger payouts. It was simple, yet Jerrik always found himself in a bit of a mess.

When Xian put their hand up, preparing for what was to come, Jerrik stopped dead in their tracks right next to the female, waiting for the signal to sprint off through the access point. "I sense your experience and respect it. For I am not the same. I fled from the Jedi." He responded in a firm tone, while continuing to wait for Xian to give instructions on what to do next. But as she said to run, Jerrik pushed off the ground with their right foot into a sprint down the corridor, racing to the next point, which was getting closer to the exit. The ship on the other hand, may have been tucked away from their current location, meaning that they would not only have to escape the facility, but make it back to the spacecraft as well.

Something was wrong, though. A sense of something dark coming their way pressured down on the shoulders of young Jerrik, causing him to slow his pace just enough for Xian to gain distance ahead of him. "Something isn’t right..I don’t know if this is the right way." He spoke in a confused voice, losing his sense of their current location, as if something was trying to lure him away from the exit. Whatever it was, Jerrik shook off the feeling and pressed forward in hopes of catching back up to Xian to inform them of what he was feeling.


 
Xian didn't slow when he spoke.

If anything, she adjusted her pace just enough to keep Jerrik in her peripheral vision, boots striking the corridor floor in a steady, controlled rhythm that never quite tipped into panic. The alarms had faded into a distant wail behind them; the turrets were dealt with for now, and momentum carried them forward on instinct alone.

At his words, I fled from the Jedi—she let out a short, breathless laugh. It surprised even her, the sound sharp and fleeting, torn away by the rush of air as they ran.

"Yeah," she said, shaking her head once as her dark eyes flicked back to him for half a heartbeat before returning forward. "That's where you're wrong about me."

She vaulted a low obstruction without breaking stride, landing light and clean, pace never faltering.

"I haven't been with the Jedi for years," Xian continued, voice steady despite the sprint. "I didn't run from them like you did—but I didn't stay either." Another huff of laughter slipped out, softer this time, edged with something thin and tired. "Turns out the Order doesn't really know what to do with people like me."

They rounded a bend, emergency lights stuttering overhead. Her expression tightened—not with fear, but with memory. Burned-out streets. Screaming comms. The kind of chaos that made a couple of automated turrets feel almost insulting by comparison.

"I've seen war," she added more quietly, breath even. "Real war. I've been shot at by things that didn't bother with warning sirens. I've had to keep moving when people around me didn't get back up." She glanced back again, this time longer, meeting his eyes as they ran. "So no," Xian said. "I'm not calm because I trust the Force or the Jedi. I'm calm because panicking gets you killed."

Another turn. The corridor split ahead.

"And for the record," she went on, tone lightening just a fraction, "I don't answer to the Jedi anymore. I'm apprenticed to Diarch Rellik." That earned a brief, almost amused shake of her head. "Which means I'm very used to situations going wrong," she finished. "And very good at getting out anyway."

Then, as if the words had loosened something deeper, her voice shifted—not softer, but more honest. "I didn't leave because I hated the Jedi," Xian said, breath still steady. "They just kept leaving." The admission landed heavier than the sprint.

"I had five masters," she continued. "Maybe more, depending on how you count the ones who disappeared before they ever bothered saying goodbye. Reassignments. Deaths. Transfers. 'Temporary' postings that became permanent absences." A thin edge of humor touched her voice. "So I learned not to expect anyone to stay."

She lifted a hand, signaling sharply toward the left path. "Rellik found me on Castell. Didn't promise salvation. Didn't pretend the galaxy was kinder than it is. Just offered me a place where people stay."

They pushed forward together, boots pounding in unison.

"So when alarms go off, and things start shooting?" Xian added, a faint grin cutting through the seriousness. "I don't panic. I've already lived through worse than automated defenses."

She leaned slightly closer as they ran, voice low and certain. "And whatever you're feeling pulling at your instincts right now?" Her eyes stayed forward, unwavering. "Trust me. It's not the right way out. Run faster. We'll—"

She stopped short. Not abruptly—never that—but sharply enough that Jerrik nearly collided with her shoulder as she skidded to a halt. Xian's hand snapped up, palm out, a silent command to stop.

The corridor ahead had changed.

A figure stood between them and the exit, framed by flickering emergency lights and drifting smoke. Tall. Armored. Not a turret. Not a drone. A man—broad-shouldered, helmeted, a heavy blaster already raised with practiced ease. The kind of presence that didn't rush, didn't shout, didn't need alarms to announce itself.

Xian's stance shifted instantly, weight settling, center of gravity dropping as the Force coiled tight and ready beneath her skin.

"…Okay," she said under her breath, a calm edge returning even now. "This is new." Her dark eyes flicked sideways to Jerrik, sharp and assessing. "Change of plans," she murmured. "When I say run—don't hesitate."

Jerrik Molten Jerrik Molten
 

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