Private Of Timeless Mistakes

[Allyson Locke]

//: Valery Noble //:
//: Ord Mantell, Prison //:

The small cell reeked of sweat and rusted metal. Allyson sat slumped against the durasteel wall, wrists bound in cuffs, with her lip split enough to sell the act. Rolling her shoulders, she tested the restaurants, seeing if she could work out of them if necessary. She heard a click and then another; they weren't Force blockers, which was good. The Mechu Deru specialist could slip out and find the informant quickly. It meant she would be in and out and back on Jutrand sooner than she had hoped.

Having already been a week in the Ord Mantell prison, it was starting to grate on her. They had kept her in holding this entire time; lucky they were too dense to realize she was a Force User and, even more so, the Galaxy's most notorious Spy.

Allyson mused over her self-imposed title; maybe it was the minor head injury she was suffering that fed her hubris. To get arrested, she had to start a well-timed fight in the back alley of a cantina, steal a speeder, and have it end in an 'accidental' crash through a checkpoint. Having already fabricated a criminal record with an alias - made it a quick choice to throw her behind bars. Exactly where she needed to be, everything was going perfectly without a hitch.

From her initial intel, while Ord Mantell officials had a grasp on all their holdings and stakes - something more corrupt was going on within the walls of their high-security prison. Rumors of corrupt guards, desperate prisoners, and an underground network of information, the latter being what drew the Corellian into the walls of the prison - she just had to get through holding.

While she sat, going over her plans, footsteps echoed down the long hallway. Allyson kept her head down, listening to the guards' conversations as they made their rounds. The footsteps stopped, and Allyson waited, her one visible eyebrow raised. "On your feet," a heavy voice commanded; the bars of the holding cell tapped with the stun baton. Allyson didn't move; she let the silence hang only long enough to show a bit of defiance. She wasn't stupid; she knew the guards wouldn't have hesitated to 'accidentally' kill her.

With a groan, the Corellian slowly pushed herself up, blinking as the harsh fluorescent lights caught her gaze. The burly Devaronian watched, unamused by her antics. "Welcome to your new home, Prisoner 4773," he sneered while unlocking the cell door. You're reassigned." Allyson, forcing a frown, feigned her confusion. "Already? I was just starting to like the view," her head nodding towards the small window, only showing a spot of the sky.

The guard reached in and dragged her out of the cell; he didn't respond for a bit while the gun's handle smacked into the small of her back, "Lucky you, Warden's got a special place for troublemakers like you." there was a hint of enjoyment in his voice as they continued to walk. Allyson tried not to react; this wasn't part of her plan. She had assumed that with the type of crimes she was 'known' to commit, she'd be thrown into general pop. Which meant she had an easier chance of finding the informant. The reassignment only meant one thing, someone or something had recognized her. Did she get sloppy?

The guard continued to drag her down the hall. At the end of the hallway, she caught sight of a figure lingering—a tall man dressed in crimson and black, a helmet covering his features. She easily realized that it was an enforcer, one belonging to the Dark Empire. His head turned, the visor reflecting the lights overhead. He watched her with quiet scrutiny. This was no random officer and not another guard.

They knew. Allyson kept her expression blank, swallowing the unease in her throat. The Spy had been in worse situations, but she could adapt.

"Move!" The Devaronian shouted as he hit her again with the butt of the rifle. She moved, head high and shoulders back - this was no longer just an infiltration - she was a prisoner. If Allyson wanted to get out alive with the intel she came for - she'd have to play the part perfectly. No matter what the cost.

The ride was short, and she was thrown into their maximum security hall. Thick walls with wire and electricity coursing through them denied her any vision. Allyson was deeper than she wanted to be. The handoff was simple, and without any excitement, the guards continued to hit and kick her down the hallway till they arrived at the cell. She couldn't see much inside, but she could sense another inside. There would be time to investigate her cellmate later; right now, she needed to try and figure out the confusing layout of the maximum security. "Get in."

The door opened, and Allyson was kicked hard, and she fell on her knees with a groan. Durasteel and her knees were no longer friends. As she knelt, the guard stepped in and removed her bindings. The door soon closed, and she knelt there, staring at the floor, trying to figure out where she had gone wrong.

 

[Valery Noble]

"Well, you look like shit." The words cut through the air like a vibroblade, smooth and sharp. They weren't filled with mockery or malice — just an amused, matter-of-fact observation, laced with something deeper.

The Jedi sat perched casually on the top bunk, one knee bent, the other dangling over the edge. She had not been expecting Allyson at all, yet she didn't seem entirely surprised either. She let the words settle in the tense quiet between them, fiery eyes flickering over the Corellian's disheveled form — the bruises, the busted lip, the stiff way she held herself.

After a beat, Valery pushed off the bunk, landing lightly on the cell floor in front of her. The shift in distance felt closer than it actually was, but that was always how it felt between them, wasn't it?

Destiny, pulling at the threads again.

Her gaze dipped, searching Allyson's expression, before her lips quirked into something softer. "And here I thought I was the reckless one," she murmured, tone edged with quiet amusement, but her eyes — those burning, unreadable embers — held something else entirely.

Then, without another word, she extended a hand toward Allyson, the flicker of a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. The tension between them was impossible to ignore recently, thick as the durasteel walls that trapped them together. Because of course, they had ended up here. In the same place. In the same mess.

Together.

Again.

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Valery Noble //:
//: Ord Mantell, Prison //:

Of course, the Force once again screws her.

Allyson exhaled, slowly forcing herself to ignore how her body suddenly ached. It was as if it realized the first part of the ordeal was over. She felt the punches against her ribs, the split in her bottom lip, and the painful blows to her lower back. Valery wasn't wrong; the Corellian looked like chit. Allyson groaned as the pain was secondary to the storm Valery's presence brought to the tiny cell.

She could feel her annoyance rising but never peaking. The Jedi's light teasing was effortless and irritated the Corellian at how easily settled in as if it were routine. Despite that, Allyson knew the irritation wasn't real, not really. Tiling her head slightly, just enough to give the Jedi a wry grin that tugged at her split lip. "And here I thought you'd be glad to see me." Allyson laughed but almost keeled over from the soreness in her abdomen.

Valery held her hand out, and Allyson considered batting it away, not wanting to accept the help. Yet, that's how she always was - keeping everyone at arm's length. Still, there was something undeniable about the irony of both being here, in the same cell, and Allyson needing the aid. They were led into the same path once more - again, the concept of fate made it feel heavier. A weight pressed down on the spy, forcing her to acknowledge the truth she spent so long trying to outrun.

Allyson reached out, her fingers hovering just above Valery's in hesitation. And in the breath of a second, the space between them felt thinner than air. Again, she hated how easy this was and how easy it had always been with Valery. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Allyson took the offered hand. It was a simple gesture forming a silent truce. But in the moment their hands touched, something sharp cut through her chest - something the Corellian would continue to refuse to name.

She was pulled up almost effortlessly, their grip firm but not forceful in a way that made Allyson's stomach twist. Once more, she blamed the cantina fight. They were close now, too close. Allyson smirked, masking everything under it.

"You shouldn't be here, Grandmaster," she murmured, her voice tinged with concern and sarcasm.

Unlike Allyson, Valery had people waiting for her, someone to love her - people to mourn her. Realizing where she was standing, Allyson pulled her hand away and stepped back as if she had been gripping a hot torch. She needed the distance and space to just breathe. "Don't tell me you got yourself arrested on purpose too?" She questioned, almost confused seeing the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order in the field like a normal shadow.

Allyson felt her jaw tense. The galaxy and the Force were cruel mistresses. She had broken free from the Jedi, but one string—one tether—continued to follow her. They were stuck orbiting each other, and Allyson frantically needed to break free from them. There were things that couldn't happen and shouldn't happen, and the more she ran into the woman, the harder it got.

"I hope you have a plan."

 

[Valery Noble]

Valery felt it the moment their hands touched.

A sharp current that raced up her arm, twisting something tight in her chest. It was ridiculous, really — how easy it had always been with Allyson. How effortless it was to fall into this tension, this impossible pull between them. Even now, even here, in the depths of a prison they had both somehow ended up in.

Again.

Her fingers curled just slightly, her grip firm but careful as she pulled Allyson to her feet. The Corellian was solid, steady, but Valery felt the way her own breath hitched — the way, for just a fraction of a second, neither of them moved. Too close. Too familiar. And yet, neither willing to step back first.

Then, Allyson smirked.

"You shouldn't be here, Grandmaster."

Valery blinked, then huffed a quiet chuckle, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Grandmaster?" she teased, head tilting slightly as she smirked. "You can just call me Valery, you know."

A beat.

Then, finally, Allyson stepped back, breaking the moment like it had burned her. Valery let her go, though the ghost of the touch lingered longer than it should. She watched as the Corellian put space between them like it would somehow change the fact that they were already caught in each other's gravity.

"Don't tell me you got yourself arrested on purpose too?"

Valery grinned, "Of course," she said, leaning casually against the cold durasteel wall. "Didn't feel right letting you have all the fun."

Her smirk lingered, but her gaze flickered, scanning the cramped cell with quiet calculation. "I'm here to observe first," she admitted. "See who comes and goes, figure out who's pulling the strings before I make my move." She met Allyson's eyes again, something knowing behind the fire. "Which means, for now, we're stuck here together."

She let that settle, just for a breath, then added playfully, "I've already claimed the top bunk, though. You can have the other."

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Valery Noble //:
//: Ord Mantell, Prison //:

The Corellian could feel the weight of the Jedi's words. The playful challenge was there, followed by the teasing smirk that danced across Valery's lips. Underneath it all, there was something sharper, something that Allyson was struggling to ignore. It was the way that Valery's words sliced through the silence and hovered between them. They made the Corellian almost groan, knowing that she was stuck.

Slowly, Allyson glazed towards the top bun and sighed softly. This wasn't the first time Valery had claimed the top bunk. The simple claim filled the cell with the thick air of unspoken history. A smile tugged at the corner of her lip, threatening to return to the playful banter they always shared, but her thoughts - her feelings - were tangled. Again. It has always been like this, especially with her. Valery's presence was undeniable, like a current the Corellian couldn't escape, and it only made the silence between them feel louder.

"Fine, just don't move so much like you always do; I'd like to sleep tonight." Allyson groaned, remembering several sleepless nights during overnight missions. The other woman often tossed and turned, but Allyson figured it was for reasons neither wanted to discuss. She had those dreams, too, almost too consistently. At least, she didn't move - or shout out in the middle of the night. Allyson caught Valery's gaze for the moment and issued her own challenge, "Tomorrow's a new day, though, so I guess I'll have to beat you to claim it." Crossing her arms, she smirked at the woman. Shaking her head, she moved towards the lower bunk - there were things she needed to take care of before they eventually turned in for the evening.

"Observing? You couldn't do that outside? Or send some junior agent to be tossed in?" Allyson laughed a little as her voice hushed, only loud enough for the pair of them to hear. She paused as a pair of guards walked by their door. She ignored them, and they continued. While they wandered, Allyson waited for Val's answer. Curiosity was getting the best of her; she was interested in what brought Valery to do the legwork herself.

Allyson sat on the lower bunk, hunched over slightly, with her elbows on her knees. Her lip throbbed from the talking and over-expressive reaction she had to see Valery. Sighing, Allyson touched her painful lower lip; it was still swollen from the scuffle that got her thrown into the prison. It was a distraction, and she didn't want to get her blood everywhere - an easy indicator that Allyson Locke was here.

Focusing on the Force, the Corellian reached for the light. The tips of her fingers flickered slightly as she tried to stitch the bottom of her lip like she had done so many times before. The light faded before any of the flesh was fixed. Allyson paused as she looked at her hand, wondering if something was stopping the Force, but she knew the reason deep down. She tried again, but nothing happened. Allyson felt uneasy but pushed it away.

Her gaze flickered back to Valery, whose amusement was seemingly still visible. Trying to remain focused, Allyson kept the conversation on their combined mission. "So obviously, you were here first. Was there anything that you observed?" She asked, trying to avoid eye contact now that she had returned to try and heal her lip. On top of her single mission of becoming a double, everything still really hurt.

"Hopefully," Allyson added. "We don't have to worry about being stuck here much longer. You'll get your information, and I'll get mine, and we can both return home in a day or two."

 

[Valery Noble]

Valery watched, smirking as Allyson looked up at the top bunk with something between amusement and resignation. That's right, Corellian, this one's mine. The familiar challenge in Allyson's expression only made her grin widen. "Oh, I'll move as much as I like," Valery quipped, settling back against the wall with effortless confidence. "And you can keep dreaming about claiming the top bunk, but tomorrow? This one's already been marked, and it's mine."

But her smirk softened slightly as Allyson sat on the lower bunk, tension flickering behind her eyes. Even playful as they were, Valery still felt the weight pressing against her. Allyson's presence was impossible to ignore, and the way she carried herself — the way she always almost let her guard down, only to rebuild it just as fast — made Valery's heart twist in a way she really didn't want to think about right now.

Instead, she focused on her question.

Valery chuckled, shifting against the wall. "Oh, I could have," she admitted, "But I've been watching this place for a while, and the layout is… tricky." She let her eyes flick toward the cell door. "Most of the general population cells are churned through. People in and out, constantly shuffled. But this wing?" She drummed her fingers against her knee. "Maximum security. The prisoners here don't move much. The guards cycle in shifts, but everything is precise. Patterned."

Her gaze darkened just a little, a flicker of something serious beneath the teasing. "Whoever's running things? They're smart. Which means getting intel from the outside wasn't going to cut it. I needed to be in here to see it for myself."

She fell quiet for a second, watching Allyson. She had noticed — the way Allyson winced when she touched her lip, the flicker of effort when she tried to heal it and failed. Valery wasn't blind. The light was failing her. But, for now, Valery decided against pressing the issue.

So instead, she sighed. And then, with a softer voice, she asked the question that had been nagging at the back of her mind since the moment she saw her sitting there. "…How is it possible we keep running into each other like this?" She met Allyson's gaze, something almost curious in the way she searched her expression. "Different missions. Different corners of the galaxy. And yet…"

Her lips quirked, smirk returning. "We always seem to find our way back to the same place." A pause. Then, more playfully, "You're not following me, are you?"

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Valery Noble //:
//: Ord Mantell, Prison //:

Allyson snorted, shaking her head as she sat back up from the bunk. Her eyes rolled as an exasperated laugh escaped her. "Yes, Val," she muttered, her voice edged with a hint of sarcasm. Hands up, feigning her surrender for being caught, "You've caught me; I've been following you across the galaxy, breaking into max security prisons just for the privilege of sharing a six-bye eight durasteel box with you." Allyson smirked her usual smirk when she was being playful. Valery would know it better than she probably liked. The amusement, though, was fleeting; something lurked beneath the laughter.

The truth was Allyson was trying to avoid Valery. Yet it seemed the galaxy desired their paths to cross more than ever. It was a bitter reminder of what had been between them, with a cruel reminder of something that might have been. Something was unresolved and unfinished, and the Corellian was being forced to face it. A part of her wondered if this was all meant to be. This was her journey of finally finding the freedom that the Dead God spoke of.

Allyson exhaled, rolling her shoulders to avoid the soreness from settling in. No distractions. She reminded herself it was the rule - one that she was reminded of more often than not. All because of one Jedi.

Her hand hovered over her lip again; a new determination was on her face. Something she needed to prove to herself - that the light hadn't entirely left her. Her eyes looked to Valery, then back to her hand. Allyson needed to focus, but she felt too seen by the woman standing just watching her. It was an issue for a Shadow - even more so for someone like Allyson. Her hand fell back into her lap as annoyance furrowed her brow. Maybe talking about something other than how the galaxy liked to screw them would be better - something to take her mind off of whatever weight pressed on her chest and her lack of force healing.

"I saw an official, one that belonged to the Dark Empire. I think they're aware that I or you are here. I seemed to be slotted for Gen Pop - the informant I had been hunting for some time was there." Allyson chewed on the good side of her lip, a nervous habit as she snapped the eyepatch over her eye off and on in thought. The pain around her eye socket was more bearable and distracting from the failure of healing her lip and the thick air she was struggling to breathe around Valery.

"There's no force suppressant; we could go for a look-see once lights out happen. The doors are pretty simple enough for me to slip open." A broad and cheesy grin spread across the Corellian's face; there were reasons she was good at her job - and this was one of them.

"Can you still cloak? Or do I have to remind you," another tease that quickly slipped the Corellian back into their friendship, the banter between two partners. It was hard to escape, but maybe she'd be selfish and allow herself to enjoy the past.

 

[Valery Noble]

Valery’s smirk widened as she leaned back against the cold durasteel wall, arms crossing over her chest in confidence. "Well, I have to say, Ally…" she mused, her voice laced with teasing amusement. "I’m flattered by your pursuit. Really, breaking into maximum-security prisons just to be near me? That’s dedication."

She let the joke linger, her eyes flickering with that same old fire — mischievous, daring, something unspoken curling at the edges. Of course Allyson would deny it. But the way their paths kept crossing, the way the galaxy itself seemed intent on tangling them together? Valery wasn’t going to let her just brush it off.

But then Allyson’s smirk faltered. Just for a moment.

Valery saw it — the flicker of something beneath the surface, behind the easy grin and sharp quips. A weight pressing against her, the same one that had been there since Jutrand. Valery could have asked. Could have pushed. But instead, she let it be. For now.

She focused on the mission.

"A Dark Empire official?" Her expression sharpened, the teasing giving way to something more serious. "Yeah, that’s definitely a problem." If the Sith — or what was left of them — were paying attention to this place, it meant their time was more limited than she’d hoped. "If they clocked you when you came in, they might be trying to figure out why. We should move before they decide to come looking."

She didn’t miss the way Allyson fidgeted with her eyepatch, chewing at her lip. It was such an Allyson thing to do — restless energy wrapped around a mind that never stopped working. The same mind that had gotten them out of — and into — trouble more times than she could count.

And then came the grin.

Valery exhaled, shaking her head as Allyson practically radiated smugness. There it is.

Her lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Yes, I can still cloak. No need for a lesson, Locke." She rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite keep the fondness out of her voice. This was too easy - too natural. She wasn’t even fighting the pull anymore.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

Then, she stepped closer. A slow, deliberate movement, closing the space between them until there was barely anything left. Her head tilted slightly, eyes flicking down — not at the eyepatch this, but at her lip.

The busted, swollen flesh, the way Allyson kept testing it like she was trying to will it away. Valery hummed softly, "Need help with that?" she murmured, voice low, teasing. Her smirk deepened, a challenge behind her gaze.

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Valery Noble //:
//: Ord Mantell, Prison //:

Allyson caught her breath in her throat, just for a second - but long enough for her to hate herself for it. Valery always had this way about her, effortless confidence as if she knew she belonged in every space she stepped into. Right now, she was stepping into the Corellian's - closing the distance in a way that made it difficult to ignore the tension humming between them.

Everything made it worse: the unspoken words and the way their paths continued to cross far too many times to be a coincidence. Something told the spy that the Jedi was also aware of this, and it infuriated Allyson, knowing Valery was feeding it. Her voice was smooth and teasing, but there was a way the simple offer was asked. It was a challenge, and Allyson wished it was just that.

Her fingers twitched at her side, and her body itched to do something other than stare at the woman frozen under her gaze. She could still feel the dull ache, more aware of it now that Valery had pointed it out. The Light had abandoned her in her greatest hour of need, and there was nothing to replace it. Valery knew it, and knowing her, she probably felt it. Allyson felt too exposed in this box and stuck with the woman. She knew too much and saw too much.

Allyson wanted to run.

"That obvious, huh?" Allyson asked, her voice missing its usual cadence. She didn't press and avoided the original challenge for a few moments longer. Allyson felt her jaw clench; she should say something - laugh it off, deflect, throwback another easy quip. You want an excuse to put your hands on me, Grandmaster? The words hung in her throat as the woman drew closer, and Allyson just watched, almost frozen, as she knew she was trapped.

Something shifted; a part of her found enjoyment in the attention. She was amused by everything; they were talking about the mission, but it was easy how it faded into the amusements of the pair. They had seen their lives flash before them, near-death experiences that were typically brought on by a plan that Allyson fished out of her mind. Yet they always made it through, and after - sometimes during those horrible moments, they laughed, they bantered, they were friends.

They were once friends.

Allyson's walls quickly built up again, pushing Valery out and her feelings down into the pits she kept them in. Shaking her head, she looked away. "I'll be fine," her voice quieted. "I've had worse—it's not a big deal." Allyson waved her hand towards her former partner.

"I was the one that was able to heal if I remember, so unless you have a first aid kit hiding in your bra - then I think I'm chit out of luck." Allyson quipped as she shrugged, doing her best not to look towards Valery.

 

[Valery Noble]

Valery chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. She didn’t move back, didn’t give Allyson the space she was clearly trying to reclaim. Instead, she lingered just long enough to watch the way Allyson’s jaw tightened, how she refused to meet her gaze, how she shoved the moment away like it wasn’t already pressing against them both.

"Quit being stubborn," Valery murmured, her smirk deepening. "It clearly hurts." Allyson had never been good at hiding pain from her.

Then, with a small shrug, Valery added, "And sadly… no first aid kit in my bra." She tilted her head slightly, smirk teasing. "Guess I’ll have to come up with another way to help."

A beat.

Then, before Allyson could brush her off again, Valery moved — slow, deliberate. Her hand lifted, fingers just barely ghosting along Allyson’s jaw before settling against her cheek. The touch was light but grounding, her thumb brushing along the edge of her skin with an ease that shouldn’t have still felt this natural.

"Just hold still," she murmured, quieter now, softer. "I can’t heal, but I can help your body do the work."

Valery closed her eyes for just a moment, letting herself sink into the warmth of the Force, into that familiar light that had never once failed her. And then, with practiced precision, she let it flow — not a flood, not overwhelming, just enough to nudge Allyson’s own body into action. A subtle pulse of energy, soothing the pain, knitting the torn skin together just a little faster.

Even through the Force, she could feel the tension winding through Allyson, like a live wire barely held in check. Maybe it wasn’t just the injury.

Valery’s gaze flickered back up, meeting Allyson’s eyes once more. "Better?" she asked, her voice quieter now, searching. "It won't heal entirely just yet, but it should soothe the pain."

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Valery Noble //:
//: Ord Mantell, Prison //:

Allyson was always stubborn when it came to asking for help. Valery knew this too well.

Her breath hitched, and there was nothing she could do to help it. The touch reminded her of something tender and intimate. The light touch and pressure of Valery's fingers on her cheek was nothing new, but the power it had behind it - the quiet intensity; Allyson couldn't ignore it. The action pulled her in a way she wasn't ready to face. So many buried memories flooded her mind, filling it with a time, a place, and a love she had buried deep inside of her.

It was a warm evening in Kashyyyk; a presence stood near her, one she had grown fond of as it was a beacon of hope in the fury of chaos. Jyoti was the Grandmaster of the Silver Jedi; her being was poised and regarded in high esteem. Tonight, when she pulled Allyson close, her touch was different. Jyoti's fingers grazed her shoulder for the first time, not with authority but with an affection that had been budding. The woman was the resurrected soul of a woman that Allyson had lost so long before this moment, she had loved her. Jyoti had fought their connection, but it seemed she had given in tonight, allowing her stoic nature to falter for the Corellian.

Jyorit allowed Allyson to stay close, but there was hesitation, a fear of crossing the boundary. Allyson had never been the type to pull away, so they stood together, her twin hearts beating faster every time Jyoti's hand brushed against her skin.

The memories were clearer and vivid as Jyoti's eyes were soft and warm, her smile a secret reserved for Allyson. There was nothing official about their moments together, nothing that anyone would have thought special. Yet, for Allyson, they were everything. It was the feeling of Jyoti's hand on her arm as she leaned in, close, her breath against Allyson's ear. Allyson could hear her gentle laugh - a sound so intimate and rare. Allyson always felt the galaxy narrow down to just the two of them.

Through her touch, Allyson learned to guide the Force and trust it. The energy that surged through her from the Echani was electric. They connected through these moments; there was something deep and alive between them. Allyson remembered how Jyoti's hand settled on hers, their fingers intertwining with a tenderness that was both a promise and a question.

They were never seen, they were never known, and history would forget their love—but Allyson never would. Even now, after Jyoti was gone and Arisa was gone, she could still hear the gentle lyrical sound of her voice.
Like the memory, the same warmth flowed through her as her lips began to stitch together. Valery's face was no longer there, and all the Corellian could see was the Echani as her Grandmaster. Her face softened, wanting to forget where she was and live in the moment her mind showed her.

When she thought about it, Allyson hadn't realized how deeply she had loved the woman. Looking back, Jyoti had been the first to make the Corellian feel like she had a home—a place to return to with someone waiting for her. Jyoti had been her first partner and someone warmth she missed the most on the loneliest nights. She would give anything to just have one more moment with the woman.

Slowly, reality began to settle in, and the smiling, cherished face of her Jyoti faded, and Allyson realized it was Valery whose fingers were against her cheek. Allyson pulled back slightly, trying to distance herself, but the memory of Jyoti's hand lingered. The warmth of the past and present knotted in her chest. The pull of the memory of her lost love mixed with the tension she had with the woman in front of her - it was too dangerous, and she didn't know what to do with it.

"Stop," Allyson whispered, her voice shaking slightly as she pulled away from Valery. "Don't… don't do that." It wasn't just about her lip; it wasn't about the Force - it was how Valery was making her feel in a way she wasn't ready to face. She hated how her touch brought those painful memories to the surface.

The touch lingered in her mind, the warmth of her past and present blurring further together. The memory of Jyoti ate at her. She hadn't been there at the end, even when Jyoti had decided to let her life shift somewhere else. Allyson hadn't been enough. She didn't want to quit her job; she couldn't stop and just relax. So the Echani had left her, finding a way to have a quiet life.

Her eyes closed, trying to find that center again—to stop thinking of Jyoti, to settle the feelings that stirred from Valery being so close. Allyson exhaled gently, nodding. "Ah, sorry about that, um," she held her head and forced a laugh. "You just reminded me of something, uh, someone—I," Allyson stopped herself and nodded again.

"Thank you, Valery, it does feel better." Allyson smiled slightly at the Jedi.

 

[Valery Noble]

Valery watched, her fingers still lingering against Allyson's skin, as something shifted. It wasn't just the usual tension that crackled between them like a live wire — it was deeper. More distant. Allyson wasn't looking at her anymore, not really. She was somewhere else, stuck in an old memory.

Valery could see it in the way her expression softened, how the usual sharpness in her gaze dulled into something almost wistful. It was rare, seeing Allyson like this — unguarded, caught in the undertow of something that pulled her away from the present. And Valery didn't press. SheJust watched and understood.

Then, suddenly, it was gone.

Allyson pulled away, retreating like she had touched fire. "Stop." The word was quiet but laced with something raw, something Valery knew better than to ignore. She didn't react at first — just let her hand drop back to her side as she studied Allyson with that same unreadable warmth.

Valery exhaled softly through her nose, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Alright," she murmured, her voice steady, unfazed. She let Allyson have that space, stepping back with an easy grace, no sign of offense in her expression. "Good," she continued, her smirk returning just slightly. "Glad it helped."

She let the moment settle, let Allyson breathe. Whatever ghosts had surfaced, whatever weight had flickered behind her eyes — Valery wouldn't ask. Not now. Instead, she stretched, rolling her shoulders before tilting her head toward the bunks. "Now, why don't we get comfortable before lights out?" she suggested, slipping effortlessly back into that casual ease. "Once the guards settle in, we can cloak and start looking around."

The tension still hummed between them, but for now, she let it shift into something lighter and playful. She flashed Allyson a knowing smirk as she turned toward the bunks.

"And just so we're clear — I'm still taking the top bunk."

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Valery Noble //:
//: Ord Mantell, Prison //:

Her ears throbbed as her pulse raced, each beat echoing in her chest - reminding the Corellian she couldn't escape. The Jedi's fingers had left a mark on her, soft and undeniable. It felt as if the woman had touched something deeper than her skin. The feeling clung to Allyson, her breath caught in her throat - she hated it. She hated the sense of the warmth spreading through her veins and the eight of something else pressing against her chest. It was something she couldn't ignore, and it threatened to eat her alive.

Allyson sat there with a whirlwind of thoughts, memories rushing to the surface in flashes that weren't all her own. Distant conversations, shared glances, and a moment she had once allowed herself to believe she was more than a shadow. The dream was to be something more than a pawn in a bigger game, and yet she couldn't get past the pull in front of her.

She wondered if Valery felt it as well, that pull that continued to crash them into each other. That damn woman and her ability to easily reach into Allyson's very core, leaving her raw and exposed.

Was it real?

"Uh yeah, thank you," Allyson responded, her mind still lost somewhere else. Fragmented.

Allyson looked to the floor, the ground feeling more solid than anything in front of her. The urge to keep pulling away, maintain her distance, and do what she always did. Shut down. Focus. The woman reminded herself of the mission; the mission was everything. It had to be. But the heat of Valery's touch still lingered on her skin; it wasn't just its physicality. Something more insistent rattled her in ways she couldn't explain. The tension made her want to scream; it gathered and brewed like a storm, gathering strength the more she ignored it. She needed someone - something.

Madelyn Lowe

The thought suddenly hit her like a wave, but utterly consuming. Madelyn's face, the black dress with the plunged back, and the delicate way her golden jewelry trailed down the curve of her back. Allyson could almost feel the weight of the golden spheres in her fingers as she didn't dare touch her flawless skin. The emotions flared to life; the Corellian was nowhere ready to unpack or understand. The woman created an ache in her chest that she couldn't shake. Again another damn woman that made the poor Corellian feel exposed and vulnerable.

She hated how much she craved the Minister's touch, how her mere presence had come to fill a void Allyson had never known existed. There were rules, though; the blonde was her handler - the relationship was calculated. They played their parts; it wasn't complicated. But it was so damn hard not to crave it in moments like this.

Allyson wanted comfort; she needed comfort from the mess her head had been thrown through. Being the deflector she was, Allyson shoved everything she had felt—Madelyn, Jyoti, Valery—into their respective places in her heart or wherever those memories went. Allyson stood from the bottom bunk. "Not if I get up here first."

Looking over her shoulder, she smirked and started to climb the bunk.

It was a struggle; there was some height to the bunk, and Allyson was sore from the fight and the small beating she had gotten before being thrown into the cell. Fingers dug into the deflated mattress as she hung with her legs kicking, trying to work her way onto the bed to claim her prize. She had lost more often to Valery, but not this time.

"You'll have to drag me out of it," she groaned as she continued to struggle. Why was this easier in her twenties?

 

[Valery Noble]

Valery knew she should resist the pull. Should ignore the way the air between them felt charged, the way her body instinctively tracked every small movement Allyson made, the way something in her ached to reach out again, just to see if she'd pull away twice.

But she didn’t resist. She couldn't, really.

When Allyson smirked, threw that challenge over her shoulder, and started clambering up toward the top bunk, Valery didn't just let her. She laughed. A bright, warm sound that cut through the tension, playful and full of knowing.

"Oh no, you don't," Valery teased, shifting just enough to plant one bare foot against Allyson’s shoulder. With an effortless push, she tried to shove the Corellian back down. Not hard, just enough to be a nuisance — just enough to make her struggle. "I called dibs, Locke. You snooze, you lose."

It was childish, ridiculous even, considering they were in a prison cell. But Valery didn't care. Not when it felt this easy. Not when Allyson’s presence made it impossible not to have a little fun. And maybe, just maybe, she liked seeing Allyson fight for it.

Valery grinned down at her, eyes flickering with amusement, but beneath it, something deeper, something unspoken. "You must really want to be close to me, huh?" she quipped, voice dipping slightly, teasing, testing. "But there are better ways than this." And then, because she could, because she knew exactly what buttons to press, she winked.

"Admit defeat now, and I'll let you sleep peacefully," she murmured, grinning as she braced herself for whatever Allyson would do next.

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Valery Noble //:
//: Ord Mantell, Prison //:

Moments like this felt too natural—too easy to slip into, like stepping through a doorway into a past that no longer existed. Allyson had warned Valery. In the same breath, she had warned herself. And yet, the familiarity tugged at her, whispering of what once was, tempting her to long for it.

But in true Allyson fashion, she fought it.

The struggle quieted as Valery's foot nudged against her. Allyson clutched at the mattress, feigning resistance, a lopsided grin pulling at her lips. "Oh, that's the bad shoulder," she teased, shoving back against Valery's foot despite knowing it was a losing battle. The Jedi had the edge over her, always had. Still, Allyson never could resist a fight, even a playful one.

After a moment, she found just enough strength to roll her shoulder and dislodge Valery's foot. Shifting quickly, Allyson leaned forward, balancing carefully on the edge of the bunk. "You seem pretty determined to be close to me, Valery. Maybe I should be the one asking questions." Her classic smirk flickered across her face before she let herself drop back down with a quiet thud.

She shook her head, brushing loose strands of brown hair from her forehead before glancing up at Valery, she gave her former partner a half-exasperated smile. "Sadly, this isn't Kashyyyk," she murmured, her voice laced with something unreadable, a reminder, a quiet acknowledgment of the weight between them. "We don't have much time before the guards switch over; get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

She didn't look at Valery as she spoke, her focus suddenly and stubbornly fixed on the duracrete floor. It was easier this way to pretend she hadn't let her thoughts drift somewhere they shouldn't have gone. She had already lived through two kisses that weren't hers, just echoes of something that could have been, reminders of a past she had no right to claim.

With a slow breath, Allyson shut her eyes. She willed herself to think of anything but Kashyyyk. Anything but Valery. Anything but Madelyn.

 

[Valery Noble]

Valery huffed as Allyson shrugged off her foot and perched on the edge of the bunk, that damn Corellian smirk tugging at her lips. Oh, she was enjoying this. The banter, the challenge, the push and pull that had always come so naturally between them. And then Allyson said it.

Kashyyyk.

The word hit her like a speeder bike, setting something alight in Valery's chest. Heat flickered across her face before she could stop it, blooming at the tips of her ears as memories crept in unbidden. That night in the tent. The way the jungle air had wrapped around them, thick and humid, but nothing compared to the warmth between them. Shadows dancing in the dim light, soft murmurs swallowed by the rustling of leaves, hands lingering just a little longer than necessary.

Valery swallowed hard, forcing herself back to the present. To the dim, cold reality of a prison cell and the Corellian who now refused to meet her gaze.

She smirked slightly, shaking her head as she shifted onto her side, propping her head up with one arm. "You know," she mused, her voice lower now, slower, dangerous. "For someone telling me to get some sleep, you sure know how to bring up things that make it difficult."

A flicker of her old challenge returned, the teasing edge to her words deliberate, but she let it hang in the air only for a second before sighing and finally, finally lying back. "Fine," she muttered, closing her eyes. "But if you try to steal my bed again, I'm kicking you." With that, she let sleep take her.

And in sleep, Kashyyyk found her again.

The scent of damp earth, the rustle of the canopy above, the weight of exhaustion giving way to something far heavier, far more dangerous. Allyson's warmth just a breath away, the way their hands had brushed, lingered. The way the night had stretched long and slow between them, full of words they never spoke but understood all the same. Valery shifted in her sleep, breath hitching, heat curling low in her stomach as the dream refused to let go.

When she woke, a sharp inhale, her chest rising too fast, her skin damp with sweat. The cell was cold, but she wasn't. Her heart pounded against her ribs, her pulse thrumming in her ears as she stared at the ceiling, wide-eyed and utterly wrecked by a memory that had never really faded.

How could she forget?

Valery stirred and rolled onto her side, but she could not find the comfort of sleep again.

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Valery Noble //:
//: Ord Mantell, Prison //:

Unknown to Allyson, a memory she had long buried had stirred something in the woman above her. It was an image she had forced deep into the recesses of her mind, a relic of the past she had no business remembering. Yet, after leaving the worn picture on Valery's desk, the memories clawed their way back.

It had been Valery's idea, a way to commemorate their survival in Kashyyyk's wilds after the Alliance had misplaced their coordinates. It was a shared triumph, a bond forged through adversity.

She had wanted to remember. Back then, Allyson had thought it might be fun.

Not anymore.

The evening passed uneventfully, the prison hum settling into its usual rhythm. Allyson had memorized the guard rotations, catching moments of rest between their patrols. Each time boots shuffled down the hall, she stirred, half-conscious, always listening.

But this time, something else woke her. A shift. Heavy breathing. A muffled sound from the bunk above. Was Valery dreaming? Sadly, even Jedi weren't immune to nightmares. Allyson hesitated for a moment then climbed up, peering over the edge, to check on her partner.

"You okay?" she whispered, but there was no time to linger.

Boots echoed down the corridor, and then—the words she had been waiting for. Thinking the cell block was asleep, the guards revealed what she needed to hear. A shift was coming. An opening.

Allyson dropped down soundlessly, peeling off the baggy jumpsuit of the prison garb. Beneath, a fitted tank top and her Corellian blood-stripe pants clung to her frame. She had no weapons—only tools strapped against her skin, hidden and ready.

In the soft moonlight, Allyson adjusted her ponytail, brushing stray strands behind her ears. Her eyes fighting sleep, but she did her best to stay focused.

"Sounds like we have about an hour to snoop around." She glanced back at Valery, voice sharp, urgent.

"Are you ready?"

 

[Valery Noble]

She had to mention Kashyyyk.

Valery sat on the edge of the bed, her elbows resting on her knees as she tried to slow her breathing. The warmth clinging to her skin was already cooling, turning to a sharp chill that made her shiver despite the stuffy air of the cell. She ran a hand down her face, fingers dragging over her lips before she exhaled a quiet, unsteady breath.

"Just a dream," she murmured, voice rougher than she intended. A lie.

Movement caught her eye. Valery looked up just in time to see Allyson shed the baggy jumpsuit, the dim light tracing over toned muscle and the sharp lines of her Corellian blood-stripe pants. Her tank clung to her like a second skin, every inch of her exuding a readiness that had nothing to do with the mission.

Heat flickered again. Crawled up Valery's spine. Settled low in her stomach.

Focus, Valery.

She pushed up to her feet, hopping down from the bunk with practiced ease. Her fingers worked through her own tangled hair, twisting it up into a messy ponytail — quick, practical, something to keep herself busy while she forced her mind anywhere else. She knew exactly what she had looked like when she woke up, exactly what Allyson had probably noticed when she peered over the edge of the bunk.

But now wasn't the time for any of that. So she met Allyson's gaze, her expression sharpening as the weight of reality settled back in. An hour. That was all the time they had. "Ready," she said, her voice steady now, free of hesitation. And then, with barely a flicker of effort, Valery took a step forward and phased right through the cell door.

"Come on, I know the way a little."

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Valery Noble //:
//: Ord Mantell, Prison //:

Allyson had noticed, but there was no time to dwell on it. Some of her regretted bringing up Kashyyyk, yet it was a defining mission for them, a crossroads where everything had changed. If she had pushed harder back then, maybe she wouldn't have been the one to fall. But those thoughts had no place here. They were just echoes of what-ifs, lost to the will of the Force.

Her gaze lingered on Valery, catching the subtle shift in her expression. Even after all these years, the memory still reached her, which surprised Allyson. She had wanted to believe Valery had moved past it; that time and the life she had built had erased those old ghosts. But the flicker of discomfort was unmistakable.

Shaking off her thoughts, Allyson focused. They were both mission-oriented, and Valery had already moved ahead. As she phased through the gate, Allyson knelt before the cell's locking mechanism, watching the familiar skill at work.

"You know I can't do that," she muttered, sharp with annoyance, maybe jealousy. The memory of their last fight surfaced unbidden. Valery had always been the better Jedi, a force to be reckoned with. Exhaling slowly, Allyson focused on her work, fingers ghosting over the lock's delicate circuitry. Where Valery's talents let her easily bypass obstacles, Allyson had to rely on grit and ingenuity, slipping past security by the skin of her teeth. Eventually, the lock released with a quiet click.

With both of them free, they had a window before the next patrol sweep. As easily as Valery phased, Allyson vanished into the Force, crouching low to scan the area.

"They move clockwise around the facility," she murmured. "We could follow it, or—?" Valery had been inside longer. She knew the rotations better. "You've got point. I'll follow," Allyson conceded. "If we need to split up, we can." Sticking close, she matched Valery's movements, their attuned senses cutting through each other's force cloaks. This was what had made them perfect partners, but it would also complicate things when they returned to the reality of being enemies.

A slight grin tugged at Allyson's lips, an attempt to lighten the air between them. "I forgot how useful your phasing is."

 

[Valery Noble]

Valery cast a glance over her shoulder, watching as Allyson worked her magic on the lock. It took her a moment, fingers deftly ghosting over the circuits, the little mechanisms inside clicking into place one by one. Valery had always been terrible with tech — never had the patience for it, never had the skill.

She could barely operate the holo-tv.

"And I can't do that," she murmured, a teasing smirk tugging at her lips. "So let's call it even."

She didn't linger, though. The moment the lock released, she was already moving, pressing herself low as she led them through the dimly lit corridors. Every step was careful, precise. Allyson had been right — the guards moved clockwise, and with a little timing, they could slip through the gaps between their rotations.

Valery took point without hesitation. This had always been their rhythm — one leading, the other following, shifting roles seamlessly as the situation demanded. Even now, even with everything between them, that part of their partnership remained untouched. At Allyson's comment about her phasing, Valery chuckled softly, her voice just above a whisper. "Yeah, well, I can't use it too many times before my head starts feeling like I got run over by a speeder, so I have to make the most of it."

She glanced toward Allyson with a smirk before refocusing ahead, eyes scanning for their next move. They had an hour. That wasn't much time, but it was enough — if they worked together.

Just like old times.

For now.

Allyson Locke ​