First Reply Mundane Frustrations.

[Serina Calis]

Mundane Frustrations.
Location: Rakata Prime.
Objective: Fix a speeder bike.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: None

The Force bends to my will, the minds of others crumble beneath my words… and yet, I am bested by a pile of circuits and rusted durasteel. Unacceptable.
​

The ruined speeder bike lay before her, half-buried in the damp, overgrown underbrush of Rakata Prime's endless jungle. Its repulsor engines sputtered weakly, then died with a pitiful whine, a mockery of what should have been its signature hum of controlled power. Serina Calis clenched her jaw, standing over it with hands on her hips, blue eyes narrowed in simmering frustration.

The machine was supposed to be reliable. It was supposed to carry her swiftly through the tangled, humid mess of ancient trees and bioluminescent fungi, allowing her to explore the ruins she had glimpsed from a cliffside only an hour ago. Instead, it had betrayed her, its engine coughing out a final, struggling breath before plummeting her into the underbrush like some foolish, wayward traveler in a cautionary tale.

She flicked her wrist, using the Force to yank away a stubborn tangle of vines that had wrapped around the speeder's frame during the crash. The vegetation tore free with a wet, snapping sound, flung into the undergrowth like an offending insect. Not that it helped. The machine still sat there, lifeless, as if mocking her lack of technical prowess.

Serina sighed sharply through her nose and crouched down beside it, smoothing the dirt from her sleeves before inspecting the exposed panel where a nest of circuitry and components lay waiting. The tangled wires, charred from what she assumed was a short circuit, meant absolutely nothing to her beyond being a reminder of her own limitations. She had studied holocrons, read into the intricacies of forbidden techniques, but when faced with something as mundane as a broken-down vehicle, she might as well have been a clueless initiate fumbling through their first lesson.

"Of course," she muttered, sweeping a stray blonde strand from her face. "Of course this happens now."

Her fingers hovered uncertainly over the wires. Was she supposed to reattach them? Remove them entirely? There had been a time when she might have simply called upon the Temple's droids or some dutiful mechanic to handle such things for her, but here, in the wilderness of Rakata Prime, surrounded by the distant cries of unseen creatures, there was no such luxury. It was just her, her speeder, and a growing sense of irritation that gnawed at the edges of her patience.

She exhaled sharply and reached into the mess of components, trying to recall anything—anything at all—that might help. Did she need to check the fuel cell? Was that even the problem? The engine casing was slightly warm, which meant something still had power, but that power wasn't reaching the repulsors. She pressed a button near the ignition—nothing.

Her gloved fingers curled into a fist, her patience wearing thin.

"I could be standing in the ruins right now," she growled to herself, glaring at the useless vehicle as if sheer willpower alone might resurrect it. "I could be unraveling secrets that haven't been touched in millennia, expanding my knowledge, furthering my power, but no. No, I'm here, in the dirt, talking to a useless heap of metal like some Outer Rim scavenger."

The heat and humidity pressed down on her, making her Jedi robes cling uncomfortably to her back. She could feel the dampness seeping into her boots, the scent of decaying plant matter thick in the air. Every breath she took seemed heavier, laden with the scent of jungle rot and the metallic tinge of ozone.

This was beneath her.

She was no technician, no mechanic, no fool with a hydrospanner fumbling in the dark. She was Serina Calis—visionary, scholar, the future architect of something greater than the mindless stagnation of Jedi and Sith alike. And yet, here she was, stranded, held hostage by a machine that refused to listen to her commands.

Her frustration flared hot. She reached for the Force, instinctively trying to will the speeder back to life, to push the energy through its circuits and force it into submission. The air around her shimmered as her will tightened, her influence stretching into the inert frame of the vehicle—

And then sparks exploded from the exposed panel, the burst of energy backfiring violently. Serina yelped and recoiled as a sharp, stinging pain shot through her fingers, a few wayward sparks biting into her glove and burning against her skin. She cradled her hand, eyes widening in equal parts pain and disbelief.

For a moment, she was completely still. Then, very slowly, her lips parted.

"You absolute wretched pile of—"

She cut herself off with an exasperated hiss, pressing her uninjured palm against her forehead and breathing deeply through her nose. Losing control over something so trivial was unacceptable. She was better than this.

And yet, her temper refused to settle, the speeder's continued defiance feeling almost personal now.

Her gaze flickered toward the jungle beyond, its depths dark and unknown, filled with secrets that beckoned to her. Somewhere in there, the ruins waited, ancient knowledge hidden within their crumbling walls. Knowledge she could use.

If she could only get there.

Jaw tightening, she turned back to the speeder, eyes blazing with renewed determination.

Fine. If it wanted to be difficult, then she would simply have to make it obey.

 

[Alana Calloway]

.​

Mundane Frustrations ​

​

Location: Rakata Prime​

Tag: Serina Calis​

Gear:​

Alana pushed aside a thick curtain of vines, boots sinking slightly into the damp soil as she stepped into the clearing. The jungle was loud—buzzing insects, distant calls of unseen creatures—but none of it drowned out the distinct tone of frustration in Serina's voice.

Her gaze landed on the wrecked speeder, half-buried in the underbrush, then on Serina, who looked about ready to rip the thing apart with her bare hands.

Alana blinked.

"…You, uh, talking to the speeder, or just having a moment?"

Serina would more than likely snap her head toward her, blue eyes sharp, and if she did Alana would held up her hands, palms out. "Not judging. Just asking."

She hadn't exactly planned on running into anyone—she'd just been walking, letting her mind wander, hoping the fresh air would help clear the strange haze in her thoughts. But now she was here, and… well, the speeder was a mess.

Alana stepped closer, eyeing the damage. The wires were scorched, the casing warped from what looked like a power surge. She exhaled through her nose.

"You tried to Force Lightning it back to life, didn't you?" She shot Serina a knowing look.

She crouched next to the machine, fingers hesitating over the mess of wiring. Something about this felt… familiar. Too familiar. Like she'd done it a thousand times before. But that didn't make sense, did it? She wasn't a mechanic. She wasn't—

Her hand moved before she could second-guess it, reaching into the panel like she knew exactly what she was looking for.

"…Huh."

The feeling was unsettling, but she shook it off, focusing instead on the task at hand. "You probably overloaded the repulsor relay," She muttered, half to herself. "If I can reroute power, it might run long enough to get you wherever you're trying to go."

She paused, smiling slightly as she glanced up at Serina.

"Unless you'd rather keep yelling at it. I don't mind stepping back if that's your plan….I actually know how to turn a hydrospanner though.”

 

[Trayze Tesar]

CURRENT MISSION - Bending to Wills
Immediate Goals -
1: Investigate the Rakatan Ruins
1.1: Assist the young lady's

BLUFOR - Allies Unknown

OPFOR - Enemy Unknown

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Serina Calis || Alana Calloway || OPEN FREQUENCY

---

Rakata Prime held many secrets, being the source of history starting events in the far distant past. But the most recent traveller arrived due to more personal history...

Trayze Tesar may have had an ugly mug, but he wasn't a native Rakatan, who instead investigated the time this world came into prominence due to the exploits of Darth Revan - and their contemporary, his ancestor, Darth Marr. Even if he didn't share the venerable Sith Lord's blood, he would have still appreciated investigation from a wider sociological lens - how a species could fall to the Dark Side while not having access to the Force had multiple questions that he wanted to answer.

His investigation would be slowed, or rather, swerved due to the familiar presence that flared up in irritation. The hum of repulsorcraft studded to a halt as a familiar figure arrived, the Kiffar removed his helm, allowing burgundy eyes to shimmer and raven locks to go free.

"Yer a long way from home, Miss." he spoke, cheerily smiling but his aura could be discerned to be... cautious. Curious. Letting the ball fall in "Miss Velvet's" court to determine the nature and familiarity he should carry on.

It was then he recognized the Enchani who seemed to have arrived first, her presence was... present, but unfamiliar to Trayze. Untrained - but not to be underestimated. Turning off the engine, he allowed his swoop to gently land on the foliange before slinging himself, sitting side-saddle before sliding to a standing presence. Gramma Dolly taught him that men should stand 'till the ladies were seated - and the Academy taught him that sitting couched on a vehicle offered less manueverability than one would think.

Still, the smile carried over to the newcomer as well. "Trayze Tesar, nice ta' meetcha, Miss...?" he offered his hand to shake.

 

[Serina Calis]

Mundane Frustrations.
Location: Rakata Prime.
Objective: Fix a speeder bike.
Allies: Alana Calloway
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Trayze Tesar

The Force bends to my will, the minds of others crumble beneath my words… and yet, I am bested by a pile of circuits and rusted durasteel. Unacceptable.
​

Serina turned sharply at the sound of Alana's voice, blue eyes flashing with irritation, though whether it was at her own failure or the unexpected intrusion was unclear. Strands of golden blonde hair clung to her damp forehead, and her jaw tightened as she straightened from where she had been glaring daggers at the speeder's exposed circuitry.

She took a slow breath, visibly composing herself, though the tension remained in her shoulders.

"I was not yelling at it," she corrected, tone clipped, arms crossing over her chest. "I was—assessing the situation." A pause. "Verbally."

Her gaze flicked down to Alana's crouched form, watching with open skepticism as she reached into the mess of fried components with a confidence Serina herself sorely lacked. The way she moved—without hesitation, without uncertainty—pricked at something deep inside Serina, an unwelcome contrast to her own fruitless struggle.

Then Alana had the audacity to smirk up at her.

Serina's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, by all means," she said, voice cool but edged with lingering frustration. "If you actually know how to fix this useless heap, don't let me stop you. It's not as though I had anything better to do than—" She cut herself off with a sharp exhale, shaking her head as if trying to physically dispel the rising irritation.

She inhaled deeply through her nose, her fingers curling against her arms before she slowly lowered them to her sides. Composure, Serina.

Finally, she sighed. "Fine. Yes. I may have—" her lips pursed slightly "—applied a small amount of Force energy in an attempt to restart the power relay." Her voice took on a defensive edge as she continued, "Which, I would remind you, should have worked if this pathetic excuse for a vehicle weren't so intolerably fragile."

She shifted her weight, tilting her head as she regarded Alana once more.

"And Alana—" her voice softened, just a fraction, but curiosity now laced its edges "—since when did you remember how to do any of this?"

Her gaze flickered between Alana's hands and the tangled mess of circuitry she was untangling, and for the first time since she had found herself stranded here, her frustration gave way to something else entirely.

Interest.

Serina's expression shifted the moment she heard the repulsorcraft cut out. The jungle was already thick with noise—the ceaseless hum of insects, the distant calls of unseen creatures—but the abrupt silence that followed the engine's stop carried a different weight. A presence, sharp yet familiar, sent a ripple through the Force, and she turned just in time to see Trayze Tesar removing his helmet, those burgundy eyes watching her with a mixture of curiosity and something else—caution.

For a moment, her breath stilled.

Then, quickly, her expression hardened, a mask slipping into place even as irritation still lingered from her recent struggles. She straightened, her stance shifting ever so slightly, a careful positioning between the broken speeder and the man before her.

Her mind raced, assessing the situation. How had he found her? She had taken every precaution to cover her trail, to ensure her involvement with Susefvi remained unnoticed. Yet here he was, as if plucked from the very edges of her past, standing before her with that ever-cheerful tone that barely masked his own intrigue.

Serina met his gaze, blue eyes cool but unreadable, lips pressing into a thin line before she let out a slow breath.

"Trayze," she said, smooth but measured, like the weight of his name alone might give away something she wasn't ready to share. Then, as if deciding the best defense was a shift in control, she tilted her head, arms crossing lightly over her chest. "I should be surprised, but I'm not."

There was no accusation in her tone, but the subtle tension in her posture betrayed her concern.

She had been careful.

Her eyes flicked to Alana for the briefest of moments before settling back on Trayze. A plea for help.

"A long way from home?" she echoed, allowing the words to linger before her lips curled in something that might have been amusement—if not for the sharp edge beneath it. "I could say the same to you. What brings you to Rakata Prime, or should I be more concerned that you've taken up tracking as a profession?"

She kept her tone light, but her mind was already working, calculating. If he had followed her here, it meant her movements weren't as obscured as she had thought. That meant others could follow, too.

And that was a problem.

 

[Alana Calloway]

.​

Mundane Frustrations ​

​

Location: Rakata Prime​

Tag: Serina Calis Trayze Tesar​

Gear:​

Alana's fingers hovered over the speeder's exposed wiring, but her attention had already shifted elsewhere. The jungle's usual noise—the distant hum of insects, the rustle of unseen creatures—had faded into the background the moment she felt it. A presence, sharp and familiar in a way that made her gut twist.

She didn't turn immediately. Instead, she let her muscles coil, instinct thrumming just beneath the surface, until the hum of repulsors cut out and boots hit the ground.

Then she looked.

And there he was.

Trayze Tesar.

The name stirred something, but it was the face—the way he moved, the way his eyes watched her—that sent a prickle down her spine. Recognition without certainty, like a puzzle with missing pieces.

Alana straightened slowly, dusting off her gloves as she met his gaze. Burgundy eyes, keen and searching. The easy smile didn't fool her.

Her jaw tightened.

"Miss Velvet," He greeted, like he knew exactly what he was doing. He was either polite, or this was some sort of scheme. Either way she didn’t like it.

Her lips curled—not quite a smirk, not quite anything.

"Depends," She said, voice even. "You always this friendly with people you just happen to run into on a backwater jungle world, or am I just lucky?"

Her eyes flicked to his outstretched hand but didn't take it. Not yet.

Alana had met too many people like Trayze before. Hadn’t she?

And none of them ever showed up without a reason.

A name…what was her name anyhow-

“Alana.” She said flatly, shaking the man’s hand limply. She would immediately try and set to work on the bike.

People like Trayze didn't just show up without a purpose.

Her gaze slid to Serina, catching the tension in her stance—the way she positioned herself just so, calculating, wary.

So. This wasn't just a chance meeting, then.

Her fingers twitched at her side before she finally spoke again, quieter this time.

"You know him?"

She focused back on the bike. “And yes, I remember how to fix these things. I used to race when I was a teenager.”

Least…that’s what she remembered?

The speeder was in rough shape, its internals a mess of fried components and scorched wiring. It was a miracle it hadn't just burst into flames on the spot. She'd seen worse, of course—patch jobs done in the middle of firefights, salvaged wrecks on Nar Shaddaa held together with little more than spit and desperation—but that didn't make this any less of a headache.

She reached into the exposed housing, carefully brushing aside loose debris to get a better look at the damage. The power relay was completely shot, its casing cracked from the heat surge. The ignition coil wasn't in much better shape. And the wiring—Force, the wiring—was a tangled, melted mess, arcs of blackened copper twisted where the surge had overloaded the circuits.

Why did Serina have to shock this thing….

 

[Trayze Tesar]

CURRENT MISSION - Bending to Wills
Immediate Goals -
1: Investigate the Rakatan Ruins
1.1: Assist the young ladies (Optional)

BLUFOR - Allies Unknown

OPFOR - Enemy Unknown

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Serina Calis || Alana Calloway || OPEN FREQUENCY

---

"Don't cost me ta' be polite." Trayze took the hand of the Enchani, now known as "Alana", before leaning back and speaking to "Miss Velvet", letting Alana work. It's clear that she and "Velvet" had some history, and rapport, so he would let them speak with one another.

He had no reason to interfere any further - if, and when, he would investigate this rather fascinating Force User - he would speak with the red haired woman on his own time.

"Miss Velvet, it's a bit of a busman's holiday of sorts." He answered with frustrating cryptidness. Even though he was honest, "Velvet" and all of her associates were unknowns, and as such, caution would need to be taken. He sensed Alana's own distaste for him, and he didn't begrudge her. One eye needed to be on each of the women, as this was a strange spot to find oneself in.

"Would ya believe that Ah'm 'ere fer a genological project?" A truth so bizarre it might as well have been a bold faced lie. He wouldn't inquire further, not openly, observations for now until rapport of his own could be built...

 

[Serina Calis]

Mundane Frustrations.
Location: Rakata Prime.
Objective: Fix a speeder bike.
Allies: Alana Calloway
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Trayze Tesar

The Force bends to my will, the minds of others crumble beneath my words… and yet, I am bested by a pile of circuits and rusted durasteel. Unacceptable.
​

Serina exhaled slowly, a measured breath meant to cool the simmering irritation that had been steadily building since her speeder decided to betray her. Now, with Trayze standing there, his ever-present smugness wrapped in layers of vague nonsense, and Alana throwing pointed glances between the two of them like she was piecing together something Serina had no interest in explaining—this was turning into a far greater headache than any broken power relay.

She shifted her weight, folding her arms across her chest as she regarded Trayze with a scrutinizing gaze.

"A genealogical project," she echoed flatly, arching one perfectly sculpted brow. "What, are you here to track down some long-lost Rakatan cousin? Maybe hoping for an inheritance?"

Her tone was dry, but her mind was already working, calculating. Trayze wasn't a fool—irritating, yes, but not a fool. If he was here, on this world, at this moment, then it wasn't just chance. She didn't believe in chance.

And the fact that he was standing there now, looking entirely too comfortable in the midst of a conversation he had no right to be a part of, only cemented that fact further.

Her gaze flickered to Alana, catching the way her hands worked over the speeder's exposed wiring, deliberate and efficient, as if she had done this a thousand times before. And yet… something about the way she moved, the way her brow furrowed in a brief flicker of uncertainty—

Serina tilted her head, curiosity now replacing some of her irritation.

"Since when did you race?" she asked, voice less confrontational than when she had been addressing Trayze. "I am glad you are starting to remember."

She let the words hang there, honest and genuine, her gaze searching for something deeper than Alana might have been willing to admit.

Then, smoothly, she pivoted back to Trayze, unwilling to leave his cryptic nonsense hanging in the air unchecked.

"And you—if you're actually expecting me to believe that you're just here for some idle family research, then I might start to think I actually did fry my own brain with that little mishap earlier." She gestured vaguely toward the ruined speeder. "So, really, why are you here, and why do I have the distinct feeling that I should be far more annoyed about it than I already am?"

There was an edge to her words, but underneath the irritation, there was something else—something sharper. Concern? Suspicion? Maybe a bit of both.

Because if Trayze had tracked her here, then it meant her presence on Rakata Prime wasn't as obscured as she had intended.

And that was a problem.

 

[Alana Calloway]

.​

Mundane Frustrations ​

​

Location: Rakata Prime​

Tag: Serina Calis Trayze Tesar​

Gear:​

Alana didn't look up from where she was working, but Serina's words didn't go unnoticed. The faintest flicker of something—hesitation, recognition—crossed her features before she smothered it beneath a wry smirk.

"Since when did I race?" She echoed, yanking a bundle of wires into place with a practiced ease that spoke of long hours spent fixing things on the fly. "Sweetheart, just because you don't remember me doing it doesn't mean I forgot how."

She tapped the side of the speeder with the wrench, giving Serina a sideways glance, her grin sharp, teasing—but not dismissive. Not this time. Because there was truth in Serina's words, whether Alana wanted to face it or not.

She had started to remember.

The way her hands moved without thinking. The way the wind had roared in her ears, not as noise, but as music. The way adrenaline had settled into her bones like an old friend rather than a stranger.

But she wasn't ready to dig into that right now.

Especially not with Trayze standing there, practically oozing smug amusement, like he had solved some great mystery before either of them had even put the pieces together.

Alana let out a slow breath, straightening, her crimson gaze flicking between the two of them. But it was none of her business. She produced her vibro knife and befns to cut a wire, before stowing it.

Serina would see Alana seemed to be making the ends of the wires into knots, crossing and tying small strands together.

She just continued to listen in, unsure what all they were discussing. She was rather happy about fixing up the hover bike though.

 

[Trayze Tesar]

CURRENT MISSION - Bending to Wills
Immediate Goals -
1: Investigate the Rakatan Ruins
1.1: Assist the young ladies (Optional)

BLUFOR - Allies Unknown

OPFOR - Enemy Unknown

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Serina Calis || Alana Calloway || OPEN FREQUENCY

---

"I am here to understand the nature of the Dark Side." He stated flatly, "Firstly through the nature of the fall of the Rakatan species - and perhaps see if there is one of my "distant cousins" ta' bum an inheritance off of." he quickly took the jab that "Miss Velvet" delivered to him and quickly redirected it back at her. "And secondly, through the actions of a certain Darth Marr and his contemporaries - of whom Ah am greatly acquainted with..."

Between the lines, Alana would see that despite this rough and tumble exterior, that this "bumpkin" was a Sith - and worse still, a nepo baby among them. No doubt related to some highborn inbred twit that couldn't trace their lineage before the Tenth Empire and the distant Darth Mordin himself - but for one such as "Miss Velvet", the implications were far worse.

Trayze genuinely didn't sense her before her tirade against her swoop bike - and while it was clear that she had her obfuscations and he couldn't trust her as far as the current half-smouldering wreck could fly, the only reason he didn't investigate further was because she wasn't his number one priority. His aura impressed upon her that a wounded pride would be far more beneficial to her than indicating any reason for Trayze to track her - their previous encounter had already established his connections to various resources. He would keep quiet and stay out of her way so long as she stayed out of his, and didn't threaten those under his charge.

After a tense staring contest, he would remember to exhale to shatter the scowl he held to the red haired young lady. "Now, am Ah gonna hafta make sure you two fine young ladies get a doc ta' give ya a once over, want me ta' ride escort, or us part as friends?"

 

[Serina Calis]

Mundane Frustrations.
Location: Rakata Prime.
Objective: Fix a speeder bike.
Allies: Alana Calloway
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Trayze Tesar

The Force bends to my will, the minds of others crumble beneath my words… and yet, I am bested by a pile of circuits and rusted durasteel. Unacceptable.
​

Serina's fingers drummed once—just once—against the scorched hull of the speeder as Trayze spoke. The nature of the Dark Side. That was the reason he was here.

A slow breath passed through her nose. It was almost laughable, really. Of course that was his reason. Of course he had come to a world steeped in ancient power and ruin, pretending as though his presence here was a coincidence. She wasn't naive enough to believe that for a second.

Her eyes flicked toward Alana, watching the way her fingers worked the wiring into knots, weaving strands together with a precision that should have belonged to a practiced mechanic. Except she isn't one, Serina thought. Not in the way that made sense.

The pieces were shifting, but not falling into place.

And then there was Trayze, standing there with that damnable casual air, spouting off about his studies, his lineage—Darth Marr.

Serina's grip on the speeder tightened.

He was throwing that name around on purpose. He wanted a reaction, wanted her to tip her hand. Curious, was he? Curious about the Dark Side? About ancient history? Or about her?

She let a moment pass before she turned, her stance loose but her eyes sharp, lips pulling into something that resembled a smile but lacked any warmth.

"How very noble of you," she drawled, voice as smooth as silk over steel. "A scholar and a gentleman, offering to escort two fine young ladies through the dangerous, perilous jungle." She tilted her head just slightly. "You must think very highly of yourself, Trayze."

She stepped forward, just a fraction, shifting the energy of the moment.

"But let's be honest with each other, shall we?" She flicked a glance toward Alana before returning her gaze to him, that same unreadable half-smile still in place. "You don't actually care about the fall of the Rakata. You care about power." She let the word hang in the air, tasting it. "You care about what they left behind, about what you can take from it. And if you're so intent on studying the 'nature of the Dark Side,' well…"

Her lashes lowered just slightly, voice dipping into something quieter, something intentional.

"You might find that nature staring right back at you."

For a breath, the air around her seemed heavier. Not in an overt way, not in a display of strength or power—but in suggestion. In implication.

Then, just as quickly, the moment passed, and she smiled, tilting her head slightly as if the exchange had been nothing more than playful banter.

"But by all means," she said lightly, waving a hand, "if you do insist on keeping us company, I suppose we could use some entertainment while Alana works her mechanical magic." She smirked toward the redhead. "Since apparently she did have a reckless streak after all."

She looked back at Trayze, watching him carefully, still gauging. Still calculating.

Because if he had come here tracking the Dark Side—tracking her—then she would need to decide, sooner rather than later, just what to do about him.