Faction Those happy people (RNR)

[Octavia Wildes]

Location: Enarc

A small hand wiped across the pane of glass. Removing a layer of dirt and grime that felt as thick as the night air. Dull beams of light escaped through the newly formed hole and into the night sky. Green eyes peered through the hole to the abandoned warehouse floor. Well, supposedly abandoned warehouse.

Two stories below was a room abuzz with active. A literal hive of various species wearing respirators and shoddy protection equipment. Working tirelessly to produce one thing and one thing only. Spice. A strong currency in the underworld of the galaxy that carried a heavy price no matter what planet it appeared on.

The green eyed figure turned their gaze from the workers to the guards. Armed with aged military blasters and pistols, probably bought cheap and in bulk. The real problem was the guard droids standing near every visible exit. Sure some of the models looked old, but that didn't make them less dangerous.

A shift in the crowd caught the clocked figures attention. Many eyes and heads briefly towards a door then quickly back to their work. None of these beings wanted to be here. They were forced into this to feed their addiction to the very thing they made. But keeping their heads down was better than losing it. Especially since the one who has trapped them in this situation has now made their presence known.

A Pyke dressed in dark blues and gold began a slow patrol of the perimeter. Eyeing the work being down and making sure it went to plan. "Boro Kon." Whispered the cloaked figure as she stepped back from the window. For a while now she had been tracking this Pyke. He was a slippery one, but now she had finally caught up with him. Pulling her hood down lower, she began to formulate a plan.

 

[Seth Denko]

QUIET OR LOUD?

Seth arrived like a shadow trailing the wind — slow, steady, unannounced. The night was heavy with stillness, broken only by the faint buzz of old power lines and the distant hum of repulsorlift traffic. He moved with the kind of caution you didn’t teach, just learned the hard way — boots soft against cracked duracrete, cloak cinched tight to muffle the sway of motion.

He spotted her near the window, one hand still smudged with the grime she’d cleared to see through. Octavia. Intent, sharp, still as stone. Seth came to a stop beside her, slipping into the space like he’d always belonged there. He didn’t speak right away — just looked through the same gap in the glass and saw what she saw. Workers moving like ghosts. Droids perched like vultures. A Pyke dressed like someone who thought money made him untouchable.

The air inside the warehouse shimmered with chemical heat. Spice. Probably processed pure, judging by the gear. He didn’t like the way it caught in his throat, even from here. His jaw worked once, then settled, eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of the Pyke doing his slow, deliberate rounds.

He leaned back from the window, turning his gaze to Octavia. “Been in a few places like this,” he muttered, low and quiet, voice rough around the edges. “Never seen one that ended clean.” A pause, then his brow lifted ever so slightly. “So, how do you wanna play it? Quiet… or loud?”

His fingers tapped once against his belt. Calm, ready. Either way, he was here and all in.​

Octavia Wildes + Open​