Private Of Timeless Mistakes

[Allyson Locke]

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

Allyson felt her expression soften with concern. She hadn't realized how much Valery's ability—her defiance of the laws of physics—took out of her. "Doesn't sound as cool anymore," Allyson whispered, keeping her voice low. Despite the guards being busy, they were still out of their cells and needed to remain careful.

Moving carefully, the Corellian matched Valery's steps, placing her step precisely where the other woman had put hers. If anyone noticed a disturbance, it would appear that only one person had passed through. They made it around the first corner smoothly, then down a long corridor. About halfway down, Allyson spotted helpful something—a call box with a terminal. Her eyes lit up.

A subtle tap on Valery's shoulder as she brushed past. "Something we can use," she whispered before letting her cloak fade. The shimmer of her form solidified, revealing her grin. "Keep watch?"

Looking at the terminal, Allyson ran her fingers over the keys, frowning. The letters had long since worn away from use. She had hoped to deduce the passcode from the most frequently pressed keys, but that wasn't an option. Sighing, she let the Force guide her instead. Hovering her hand over the device, she exhaled slowly, listening. The machine's hum blended with static, a familiar white noise. Then, it shifted. The discord harmonized, forming a pattern—whispers of binary through the Force.

Minutes passed. Then Allyson turned to Valery. "Couldn't get the prisoner list, but I got a hint of the map."

She moved back toward the door they had entered through, fingers brushing against her palm as she activated a small device. The window provided the perfect surface. Pressing her hand flat against the glass, a hologram flickered to life.

"Guards are here," she pointed to the far end of the block. "We need to get to that office. If we can access the prisoner manifest, I can find what I need." She hesitated, chewing on her lip. "We can share the intel," Allyson sighed, "I'd be in trouble if you weren't here."

Clearing her throat, Allyson looked away from Valery. "So, why are you here? Looking for Dark Empire intel, too?" Her smirk returned, but there was weight behind it. They were on opposing sides, yet here they were, working toward a common goal. Her voice dropped. "Just so you know, I've been ordered to kill the informant once I get what I need."There was something behind her eyes as she met Valery's gaze. A warning. A plea.

"I hope you won't interfere."​

 

[Valery Noble]

Valery kept watch as Allyson worked, her fiery gaze flicking between the corridor and the subtle movements of the Corellian's fingers over the console. The way she listened, felt the machine, coaxed it to give up its secrets — it was a talent Valery would never have. When Allyson turned back, the flickering hologram of the map illuminating her face, Valery's sharp eyes scanned it immediately.

Valery nodded when Allyson showed her the map and explained the situation. It sounded simple enough, but then Allyson hesitated. Valery felt it before she even spoke, the weight settling into the air between them. The tension rolling off her in waves, the way she avoided looking at her too directly — until she did.


And then it hit.

"I've been ordered to kill the informant once I get what I need."

The words were quiet and firm. A statement of fact, laced with something more.

Valery didn't react immediately. Didn't let emotion touch her face as she held Allyson's gaze, searching for something in those hazel eyes. She already knew what she would find. Allyson was a lot of things — reckless, infuriatingly smug, Corellian to her bones — but she wasn't a liar.

Valery inhaled slowly, exhaling through her nose. "I'm here for the intel," she said, her voice steady. "Not the informant." No lecture. No judgment. No attempt to stop her. Not here — not with her. They weren't on the same side. Hadn't been for a long time. Valery wasn't here to change Allyson's mind — wasn't even sure she could.

So she let it sit between them, unspoken but understood.

"Let's go."

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

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

Allyson's mind raced through hypothetical conversations as she waited for Valery to answer. It was impressive how many scenarios she could run through in a single breath. The Jedi's response, however, caught her off guard.

She had expected pushback, a plea for mercy, an argument that there was always another way. Taking a life was never an easy choice, but this wasn't her choice. The order had already been given. When no protest came, Allyson let reality settle in. There wouldn't be a fight, no morality debate, just an understanding between them.

"Works for me." Allyson nodded, the agreement unspoken but mutual. "I can take point."

She reached up, her fingers found the edge of her eyepatch. Pulling it free, the cool, stale air brushed against the exposed skin. It felt like a foreign sensation that the Corellian wondered if she could ever get used to. Allyson continued to blink, and the cybernetic eye hummed to life. It glowed faintly before adjusting to the dim light. Even with its artificial lenses, the emerald flecks in her iris reflected the sterile glow of the fluorescents above.

Allyson blinked again, letting the calibration settle. "Sorry," she muttered, almost sheepish. She hated how long it took sometimes.

The stolen map flickered into her vision, an overlay guiding her path. It made navigating the hallways easier, but rather than move immediately, she turned her attention to the nearest vent. Her mind worked quickly. Then she turned to Valery. "Hm." Allyson's gaze flickered over the Jedi, scanning from head to toe. Her hands gestured absently, measuring Valery's shoulders, then her waist. "This could work," she decided. "We're going through the ceiling vent. No phasing, no cloaking, just a clean route."

She winked, then climbed up the corner, bracing one foot against each adjacent wall to lift herself. It took only seconds to work the grating loose before she shoved it inward and pulled herself into the vent.

A few moments passed before her head reappeared, hanging upside down as she grinned at Valery.

"You coming?" She extended a hand, ready to pull the Jedi up if needed.

Once inside, Allyson moved carefully, crawling on her hands and knees through the confined space. The metal was cool beneath her palms, the air stale and thick with dust.

"Just gotta go slow," she smirked over her shoulder. Then, her lips quirked into a grin. "And don't look at my ass, or I'm telling the Council." She snickered, amused at her own joke, and kept moving.

A beat of silence stretched between them before Allyson spoke again. "Hey." She turned down a narrow section of the tunnel, her voice quieter now. "So I'm assuming I'm public enemy number one in the Alliance." She framed it as a half-question, mostly a part of her not wanting to know the truth. And yet the words continued, "Why haven't you tried to kill me yet?"

It wasn't the best time to ask, especially not with Valery behind her, but instead in front of her. But despite everything, some part of Allyson still trusted her. Not entirely, she wasn't reckless. But enough to ask the question.

She exhaled, keeping her tone casual, though the weight behind it was anything but. "Just figured I'd have worn out the kindness of being an old friend by now."

 

[Valery Noble]

Valery watched as Allyson reached for her eyepatch, her fingers deft and familiar with the motion. When the cybernetic eye flickered to life, a faint glow settling into its artificial lens, Valery didn't look away. It was different. A reminder of everything that had changed, of how much had been lost. But at the same time, it was still Allyson. Stubborn, reckless, infuriatingly smug. The same Corellian she had known for years.

She just nodded at the plan, stepping forward and gripping Allyson's outstretched hand to pull herself up into the vent. The metal was cool beneath her fingers, the space tight, and she exhaled slowly as she shifted into position behind the other woman.

Then came the comment.

Valery smirked, voice hushed but teasing. "No promises." A beat. "And if that's what you tell the Council, I'd be shocked." She slid forward a little, her lips curving further. She let that sit for a second before turning her focus back to the path ahead. Allyson had made a joke, but Valery felt the shift in tone the second she spoke again. It was casual — on the surface. But the weight beneath it was unmistakable.

Why haven't you tried to kill me yet?

For a moment, Valery didn't answer. Her gaze lingered on the back of Allyson's head, tracing the lines of a face she knew too well. The truth was simple, yet impossible. Valery didn't believe in killing friends. And no matter how much had changed, no matter how many times they had found themselves on opposite sides, a part of her still clung to the foolish hope that Allyson might find her way back.

She didn't say it.

"No, I think you've done quite the opposite," Valery finally said. Then, before an answer could be given, she nudged Allyson forward, "Now, keep moving, Corellian," she said, her voice steady but quiet. "Before someone hears us."

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

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

She wanted to laugh, but the weight of what she followed the joke with prevented it. A part of Allyson wanted to know why, what kept Valery holding back? Any other Jedi would have taken the opportunity to kill or arrest her. It was hard to think that Valery valued their history and friendship over the duties of a Grandmaster. It made the woman wonder if she could do the same if their roles were switched. Yet, Valery had everything to lose, while Allyson had nothing.

"I can always tell them about other things," Allyson quipped, her voice light with playful banter, a buffer against the heavier thoughts circling her mind. She gave Valery a teasing shake of her hips before moving forward carefully. The cybernetic eye continued to lay out the direction toward the guard's main office. Silence remained while they reached the last leg of the journey. Allyson stopped and peered down through the grating vent. The guards were still chatting, and it seemed like the hour was ending.

The chatter continued as they left the office, and Allyson did a scan with an eye to see if anyone had remained lingering. When no one was there, Allyson began to work on unsealing the vent. "Looks like our time is almost up; there's a locker room; we can snag some uniforms and make our way back to the cell after I get the informant's location," Allyson whispered while working on unsealing the vent. With a soft pop, the vent came loose, and the Shadow slipped through, landing soundlessly on the floor. She shifted aside to make space for Valery.

Once Valery landed, Allyson turned to her. "Could you be so kind as to make a sweep to make sure no one was left? As much as I trust this thing, it can't always be perfect." Allyson grinned, pointing to the cybernetic eye. Her attention was pulled back to her tasks. "I'll get what we need, then meet you in the locker room."

Taking no extra time, Allyson moved to the nearest terminal. She didn't wait to see if she could break through the securities without the Force.

Instead, she focused everything on the nearest handful. The necromancer reached through the Force, letting it pour into her focus and stretching towards the nearest handful of terminals. As her influence touched the machines, five flickered to life in unison. The information came fast, hitting almost instantly against her mind. This was what she was good at; it was what made her worth something to anyone.

The data streams continued to flow, but the amount of processing she had to do broke a sweat over her brow. Finally, after a few moments, she found the lead she was looking for. The informant's location. Quickly skimming and following the lead, she discovered they were being moved into the same cell block. Luck seemed to be on their side on this mission.

With the information gathered and her presence wiped clean, Allyson made her way towards the locker room area. Hopefully, there would be uniforms they could wear and just head back quickly into their cells. The rotation was starting soon, but they had a way back, likely shorter than the way they came.

Slipping into the locker room doorway, she moved quietly, looking for Valery. "Val?" she called out. It didn't take long for Allyson to find the rows of lockers, and she sat down on one of the benches and began picking the lock—hoping to find something of value on the inside. "Val, I can't pick these on my own. Where are you?" Allyson again blindly called out for the woman as she worked her way through.

 

[Valery Noble]

Valery moved as soon as Allyson did, slipping soundlessly through the vent and landing with quiet precision beside her. She gave a quick nod at the request and, without a word, turned on her heel to begin the sweep.

She moved swiftly but methodically, her senses stretching outward as she scanned each corner of the building, each hallway, each shadow where a lingering guard might hide. But there was nothing. No stray soldiers, no late-shift workers. Allyson's intel had been solid — though Valery still wasn't about to say that out loud.

Satisfied, she turned back toward the locker room. As she neared the entrance, Allyson's voice carried softly through the space, laced with casual frustration.

"Val, I can't pick these on my own. Where are you?"

Valery paused, a smirk already curling at the corner of her lips.

This was too easy.

The Force wrapped around her like a shroud again, bending the light around her form until she was utterly invisible. Silently, she closed the distance, stepping lightly over the floor, careful not to make a sound as she approached Allyson from behind. The Corellian was hunched over the lock, focused, hopefully completely unaware.

Valery leaned in just enoug h— then, in a smooth, fluid motion, she dropped the invisibility and placed her hands firmly on Allyson's shoulders.

"Boo."

The word was little more than a breath, sharp and sudden, delivered right against Allyson's ear.

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

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

It was a rare thing for Allyson Locke to be snuck up on. Valery Noble had managed it - Twice.

Allyson's small rush of triumph was cut short when the lock clicked open, and a hand landed on her shoulder. Soon after, it was followed by a whisper brushing her ear. Allyson felt her whole body stiffen, and the lock slipped from her fingers to the ground. Instinct took over, and she vanished into the shadows. Once her adrenaline calmed down and registered who it was, her face twisted in exasperated realization.

She blinked back into view just as quickly as she'd disappeared.

"You're a bully," she accused, laughing as she gave Valery a light shove. Everything about this was too easy. Too familiar. And it bothered the Corellian. How they moved, bantered, and slid into the old rhythm was dangerous. Not just for her. For Valery, too.

Shaking her head, Allyson pulled open the locker. Inside, the uniform was neatly folded and looked like it had barely been touched. She held it up, giving it a quick once-over before offering it. "Looks like it's your size," she said, nodding toward Valery. She scooted to the next locker, already working the mechanism with practiced fingers. This one gave less resistance—she had the rhythm now, the trick to its lock.

"They moved the informant," Allyson said, her voice calm, "Caused trouble in Gen Pop. They're moving them tomorrow. To our wing." The lock popped open with a satisfying click. Allyson set it aside and thumbed through the contents, pulling out another clean uniform. With a casual flick, she dropped it onto the bench and stood.

"With them coming to us, we'll be out of here sooner than later. You've been here a week? Bet you're already missing home." She laughed, tugging at the zipper of her Sith jumpsuit. The sound echoed softly in the locker room.

Allyson peeled the top half down, the dark fabric falling to her hips as she reached up to redo her ponytail. "The only thing I miss is my shower," she smirked. "If you'd stayed longer on Jutrand, I could've shown you the place. Real fancy."

There was more to that, but she kept the part about the Emperor's funding to herself. That deal was private and dangerous. Her loyalty to his lessons and his promise to set her free from the chains of the Force. She had become more within the Empire than ever in the Alliance. Allyson Locke had become the Emperor's Apprentice.

On her back, faint lines glowed softly in the harsh light, what remained of the tattooed wards meant to keep her from falling. Faded now. Almost gone. They had done their job on Woostri; she remained with the light for now. Allyson hadn't wanted to think about what it meant to be without them now. There was no redoing them. No second chance incase the dark side tried to consume her again.

Still facing the locker, she paused, looking over her shoulder. "Don't get any funny ideas over there, Grandmaster," she said with a crooked grin. She shook her head, laughing again.

It was far too easy to fall back into what was comfortable. And that made it dangerous.

 

[Valery Noble]

Valery grinned the moment Allyson blinked back into view and shoved her. The sound of her laughter — the real kind, soft and free — echoed lightly in the locker room, breaking the tension in the air just enough to make it feel like old times again. "A bully?" she repeated with a mock gasp, pressing a hand to her chest. "Nooo, I prefer the term tactical opportunist." She stepped back, lips twitching into a smug little smile. "Besides… you love it~"

The teasing edge in her voice was impossible to miss as she sauntered toward the bench, grabbing the uniform that had been held out for her. She held it up with an arched brow, glancing down its length before shooting a sideways look at Allyson.

"That was awfully quick," she mused, her smirk deepening. "What, been keeping tabs on my measurements all this time?"

With a roll of her eyes and a quiet chuckle, Valery began to strip down out of her current disguise. She was methodical, efficient — almost like a soldier with the way she folded every piece — but as she unzipped the suit and shrugged out of the top half, she couldn't help the quick, involuntary glance toward Ally.

Her gaze flicked up just in time to catch the way Allyson's jumpsuit fell to her hips, the curve of her back lit in the harsh lighting, soft lines of those fading wards barely visible. A quiet breath caught in Valery's throat — not out of shock, but something closer to memory. She looked away quickly, cheeks coloring just faintly. Focus. Right. Mission.

Still, there was a lingering warmth in her tone as she stepped into the fresh uniform and zipped it up.

"Home's been quiet," she murmured, answering the earlier question without really thinking. "I miss it, yeah. But this..." She glanced over again, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "This isn't so bad." Then came the smirk. That same, familiar edge in Allyson's voice.

"Don't get any funny ideas, Grandmaster."

Valery laughed again, a low and soft sound. "You wound me," she said, hand over her heart again. "Funny ideas? I'm the picture of Jedi discipline." But Force help her, if Allyson kept smirking at her like that, she wasn't going to struggle to stay disciplined.

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

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

Allyson couldn't help but laugh.

Valery was something. The perfect Jedi, most days, was controlled and collected, and she was everything a Grandmaster was supposed to be. But tonight, there was something else behind her eyes, something heavier.

Allyson had figured out what it was. Guilt tugged at the edge of her amusement; maybe she shouldn't have brought up old memories. Deep down, maybe selfishly, she was glad Valery still held onto them. They still meant something, and the Corellian still existed somewhere.

"Of course," Allyson quipped, "I wouldn't be the galaxy's greatest spy if I didn't know the Grandmaster's measurements."

Shaking her head, Allyson slipped out of the Sith jumpsuit and into the stolen uniform. "And don't forget," she added while buttoning up the front, "I was usually hunting down our cover identities. Someone had to ensure you didn't end up in a shirt two sizes too small."

The collar was crisp, too formal against her skin, but she adjusted it until it matched regulation. She grabbed the cap from the locker, tilting it onto her head at just the right angle.

"Quiet's good," Allyson nodded, her voice softer now. She meant it, but there was something bittersweet in the words. As much as the spy longed for quiet, the idea of having it honestly was terrifying. She didn't know who she was without the noise, without the running, without the edge. Sentimentality wasn't a good look on the Corellian spy. But it slipped through anyway. Turning to Valery, she raised a brow.

"Didn't think you were the type whose idea of romance was a prison cell," Allyson teased. She reached out, her fingers brushing Val's hand, and gave it a brief, gentle tug toward the door.

"Better let the husband know your romantic dreams," she added with a smirk over her shoulder. "Pretty sure he's more interesting company than you've got now." She laughed again, letting Valery's hand go as she checked the hallway. The coast was clear.

They slipped out. Allyson moved naturally, her posture easy, the uniform helping them melt blend into the rest of the guards.

"They've started the next patrol," she murmured. "We're good."

It wasn't long before they made it back to the cell block. The former shadow's hand waved subtly over the lock. It clicked open with ease, letting the pair slip through as if they never left.

"Never thought I'd be happy to see my prison cell," she laughed. Carefully, Allyson stripped out of the guard uniform. She folded it, knowing it could come in handy in the future.

As she reached for the prison jumpsuit, the mood shifted. "I always wondered," Allyson said, her back to Valery as she dressed. "How did you do it?" She didn't clarify what she meant, not right away.

"How do you have a normal life? A family. Someone who loves you. Kids, even." She pulled the zipper up slowly. "People actually love you." The words were quiet. Allyson wasn't bitter or resentful; she was just exposed. It was a rare moment for the Corellian.

 

[Valery Noble]

Valery laughed softly under her breath, trying and failing not to grin at Allyson's smug little quip about her measurements. "Well," she said as they moved down the hallway, "I suppose that's fair." She chuckled again and just shook her head in amusement.

She didn't say anything when Allyson brushed her hand. Not out loud. But she didn't pull away, either. The warmth of it lingered even after the touch ended, like some part of her still remembered how natural it used to feel. Like some echo of the past still knew how to react, no matter how many years had passed or how many things had changed.

But then they were moving again, silent shadows in stolen uniforms, slipping through corridors like they belonged. Valery moved easily, falling into rhythm beside Allyson the way she always had in the old days. Their bond wasn't what it once was, but the muscle memory? That hadn't gone anywhere. Inside the cell, the door slid shut behind them, and the moment felt like it held its breath.

Valery turned, peeling out of the uniform again, and caught herself stealing another glance over her shoulder as Allyson stripped hers off too. There was still something between them — tension, maybe, or history, or just a low hum of electricity that neither of them really talked about anymore. She smiled faintly to herself. And then Allyson spoke.

The mood shifted like a breeze through the cell. The spy's voice was quiet, but it hit like a loaded question. Valery paused mid-motion, folding the uniform in her hands with more care than it probably needed. She looked at Allyson's back — the way her shoulders sat just a little too still.

How did she do it?

Valery set the uniform aside and sank down onto the edge of the bench, exhaling slowly. "I don't know that there's a right answer to that," she said after a moment, her voice softer now, low enough not to echo. "I didn't plan for any of it. Kahlil, the kids… I didn't think I'd ever have something like that. Not with this life." Her gaze dropped briefly to her hands, fingers curling lightly against each other.

"But it happened. And I fell so fast and so hard for him, Ally, I think part of me's still falling." A smile ghosted across her lips — a real one this time. "It's not always easy. Some days it's exhausting. But they… they're everything to me." She looked up again, eyes a little glassy now, but steady. "My mornings start with giggles and squeaky footsteps on the floor, and I fall asleep most nights next to someone who makes me feel safe. Who looks at me like I'm still the person he first saw, even when I'm a mess."

Valery hesitated, then tilted her head slightly, her expression softening. "I'm lucky. I know I am. And I think part of me is always scared it's all going to be taken away… but that's what makes it worth holding onto." She smiled again, but this time with something warmer in her eyes — something that wasn't just nostalgia or memory, but deep, abiding gratitude.

Then, with a playful flick of her gaze toward Allyson, she added lightly, "Besides, you always said I was the romantic. You sure you're not just jealous I made the prison cell thing work first?" Her smile curled into a teasing smirk, but her eyes didn't waver.

She was here. Present. Real. And so was everything between them — even if it had changed. Even if some of it had been left behind.

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

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

Allyson listened as she finished changing. Her gaze remained away from Val as she didn't have the stomach to look at her as she described everything the Corellian had ever wanted. The woman's answer was a good reminder of Allyson's station, who she was to the galaxy and the cards she had dealt.

There had been a time when she could have had everything Val did. She often remembered it: the beach house and young love. It was innocent and pure, untouched by the horrors of war until Allyson brought it home.

A choice was given, and Allyson chose what she thought was right. Ever since then, she felt as if she was cursed. Shaking her head, Allyson tried not to delve too deeply into that thought. Finally, looking at Valery, she laughed. "No, you can keep the romantic prison date for you and Kahlil." She put her hands in front of her and shook them, emphasizing her jest.

"I'm happy you found someone. Kahlil's a good guy." Allyson nodded, smiling. She was happy for Valery; at least one of them got to have a happy ending. The subject was getting too personal for Allyson; her mind wandered back to Jutrand too easily. She wondered if someone missed her if someone wondered if she was okay. Shaking her head, Allyson removed the dangerous thoughts from her mind and decided to tease the Jedi a little more.

"Stars know we would have been a disaster," She laughed as she sat on the edge of her bunk and stretched. While sleep sounded good, she needed to wait a little longer - her check-in time was coming up, and Valery was still awake.

Leaning back onto the bunk, Allyson continued to smirk at her cellmate. "So, are you going to tell me what you dreamed of earlier? Seemed quite interesting." Allyson had played it off, initially assuming the dreams were nightmares. Raising a brow, she shrugged, "Better to talk about them than to let them fester." The Corellian laughed as she settled into her bunk, "S'what my SIA therapist always told me." Allyson wrinkled her nose as the grin widened slightly.

Allyson was now propped up by her elbows as she laid back, partially resting on the back of the bunk and wall.

"Come on, you know you can tell me anything."

 

[Valery Noble]

Valery arched a brow at Allyson's dramatic hand-waving and laughed softly, the sound light against the cell's stone walls. "Mmhm," she hummed, folding her arms and leaning against the edge of her own bunk with a teasing smirk. "You say that now, but I'm still not convinced we would've been a disaster."

She let the words hang in the air for a beat, then added with a soft chuckle, "Probably more like a slow-moving, flirty crash you pretend isn't happening until you wake up next to someone in the kitchen with half the cupboards open and no memory of who started the fire."

But then Allyson shifted the conversation — and with it, the energy. Valery felt it immediately. The teasing, easy rhythm dulled a little as the Corellian's voice dipped toward something else. The dream.

Valery blinked, caught entirely off-guard by the question.

"Oh," she said too quickly, blinking once, then twice. A faint flush of color crept up her neck and she glanced away, pretending for half a second that she might dodge the question. "It was just a dream," she started, the practiced cadence of a Jedi brushing something off. "Probably stress. Maybe—"

She stopped. Her jaw shifted like she was chewing the inside of her cheek.

Then, finally, she sighed, sitting down again beside the edge of the bunk and staring at the far wall. "…It was Kashyyyk," she admitted quietly.

She ran a hand through her hair, the blush still lingering but her voice softer now, honest. "I think it came back because you mentioned it again. That night… And now we're here. Together. In close quarters. With… you know. Everything that happened during out latest encounters."

Allyson Locke ​