Private Pieces of Eight

[Palm-Imer]

C R U I S I N G​

WEARING: XxX.
TAG: Abel Denko

The grand star cruiser Serenity’s Horizon glided through the velvet void of space, its sleek, polished hull catching the distant starlight. Palm had known the vessel was built for opulence long before ever boarding it, but this...this was truly a marvel of luxury and grandeur. It was a little bit too much for her taste. Tonight, the plush interiors of the cruiser were alive with the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of crystal glasses, as the galaxy's elite mingled within what Palm could only describe as opulent bar.

The elegance and sophistication of every very-polished inch shone somehow even brighter than the stars beyond the seemingly endless flexiglass windows. The space was adorned with rich mahogany paneling and gleaming marble floors. A long, curved bar stretched along one side, its surface a deep, lustrous onyx with delicate gold inlays. Behind it, rows of sparkling bottles and decanters were arranged with meticulous precision, showcasing the finest spirits and concoctions the galaxy had to offer.

Palm-Imer entered the bar with a relaxed air, a welcome reprieve from the intense networking and formal discussions that had occupied much of her recent days. Tonight, the Sovereign of Geminidae was intent on enjoying a tranquil evening. Her clothes, though sophisticated, were understated—a subtle blend of comfort and class that suited her mood perfectly. The soft fabric flowed gracefully as she moved, and her presence was entirely unassuming - specially when compared to some of the more...extravagantly dressed present tonight.

She made her way to a quiet corner of the bar, choosing a spot that offered a panoramic view of the room while keeping her well away from the transit heavy areas. A nod to the bartender summoned a beautifully crafted cocktail, and she was ready to unwind. Palm-Imer settled into the seat with a sigh of relief, her shoulders relaxing as she let the stresses of her diplomatic duties melt away. The noise of the people mingling and the soothing strains of classical music created a pleasant backdrop, a gentle reminder that even though she still much prefered more practical means of travel, this she could find enjoyable in small measures.

As she took a sip, it provided a perfect counterpoint to the warmth of the room. For a moment she felt the urge to let her amber gaze wander and take in the vibrant social scene to see if there was anyone worth talking to, but she kept herself from it. This moment was to be purely for her own enjoyment. Gods knew she needed it.

The vast galaxy was still there, waiting for her attention, but for tonight, she was simply a guest at a grand affair.
​

 

[Abel Denko]

SERENITY'S HORIZON

After the fifteenth cruise, they all seemed to blend together.

If one had said that the Lord of House Denko was born in a gutter, the response would have been a scoff. Perhaps even a laugh. To even imagine that Abel Denko, who had spent the better part of a decade honing his family's humble winery business, came from nothing was preposterous! Yet, as the blonde-haired man stood upon yet another luxury liner, his thoughts were of home. Not of the gilded halls on Naboo that he had departed only recently. No...he thought of Nar Shaddaa.

Though the gutter was far from a comfortable place, it was honest. Abel remembered when his parents worked tirelessly to provide for him and his siblings. How, after their deaths, his elder brother stepped up so that he and his sister could live with relative comfort. Then, when Josiah joined the Jedi, Abel took to the cartels like a moth to a flame. He was an enforcer. He knew how to fight. How to break. And many years later, he put that violence to good use.

He was a Knight Obsidian. A beacon of hope in the southern systems. He fought for something that had meaning - taught some beautiful souls as well. But for what? It all went to shit. Even his most faithful student parted ways for him, choosing her own noble home over the good they had wrought. Abel was alone and found himself in a world of golden lies. Naboo was a planet that looked beautiful on the outside, but its core was more rotten than the Hutt Moon. And when he took over the Skywind Estate, he was exposed to the stench.

But he was at least prepared by his years of service to the Black Suns. He knew how to deal with evil people, even if they were draped in finery. So, his family business grew. The wines became the stuff of local legend and he expanded their holdings into liquors. He had more money than he'd ever know what to do with and more customers who wanted his products than he could ever personally meet. In fact, he was on this very liner in order to network with some higher profile clients. A few more handshakes and he would have cemented his family's wares as being the personal choice of a few militant organizations.

Money was money, after all.

But, he needed a break. And so, the man who would have preferred being dressed in armor entered the bar in a suit. His hair was slicked back. His lightsaber was neatly concealed. Everything about him screamed noble and he hated it. Abel took some time to roam the scene, offering a professional smile he had practiced over and over again to whomever called for him. That grin wavered when he saw her. She was the picture of beauty and elegance - as was everyone else aboard the damn ship - but there was something about her. Something familiar. Drawing closer, he recognized the profile of her face.

"Palm-Imer, is that you?" he said, surprise coloring his tone. Though they were not personal friends...they once stood for something. Now, if his eyes were to be believed, fate placed them both within a starship filled with the exceedingly wealthy.

Did they still stand for anything?​

Palm-Imer​

 

[Palm-Imer]

C R U I S I N G​

WEARING: XxX.
TAG: Abel Denko

Palm's fingers traced the rim of her glass as she considered the world beyond the large flexiglass windows, lost in thought. The serenity of the moment was almost hypnotic, a rare luxury in a life so often dictated by duty. But as the soft melody of the music mingled with the muted conversations, a voice broke through her reverie, familiar enough to pull her gaze from the stars back to the opulent bar.

She turned, her amber eyes meeting the striking figure of a man who seemed almost out of place among the glitz and glamor. It took only a second for recognition to set in. Abel Denko. A name from another life, a life that, despite all efforts to compartmentalize, still lingered in the shadows of her mind.

“Abel,” she greeted, her voice carrying both surprise and a warmth that belied the years and distance between them. They had never been close, but he had been a part of something that had taught her to believe in great things, and now was cherished as much as it was a source of seemingly endless pain. She took in the sight of him—clean-cut, polished, but with a tension in his posture that no amount of grooming could disguise. It was a tension she knew well. After all, she had felt it in herself more times than she could count.

“It has been a long time,” Palm continued, gesturing to the seat beside her and inviting him to join her. “I would have never expected to find you here.” The words were simple, but they carried the weight of all that had passed between them—years of battles fought, victories won, and losses endured. Palm had not been there for the greatest loss. She had abandoned the CIS short before its downfall, to face one much closer to her core. For a second, she could not help the regret and ghosts of the past surface behind her golden eyes.

Her recent enocunter with Gerwald had worsened a wound that had never healed. Palm would not hold it against Abel if he too looked at her as a failure. She had not been there to stand with them, after all, and it was difficult to deal with the knowledge that his judgment would also weight heavy on her. Palm had spent too many nights wondering if the sacrifices she had made were worth it, if the ideals they had once fought for still held any meaning in a galaxy that seemed to have moved on without her down dark corridors. And now, here was Abel—someone who had lived through it all as she had and more, someone who might understand better than anyone else.

Her gaze flicking back to the window for a brief moment, while she took another sip of her drink, savoring the warmth it provided as if trying to chase away the chill of the past, before returning to Abel. Palm took a quiet second to observe him, her gaze soft yet discerning. The polished exterior he now presented to the world was a stark contrast to the man she remembered, but there was something deeper, something unchanged. She wondered if he saw the same in her.

“Fate does have a strange sense of humor,” she mused, her voice light but with an undercurrent of something more. “Of all the places in the galaxy, who would have thought we’d cross paths again on a ship like this?”

She took another sip of her drink, letting the warmth of it settle her thoughts before speaking again. "How have you been, Abel?" she asked. It was an open-ended question, one that allowed him to share as much or as little as he wished.

​

 

[Abel Denko]

It was her.

Standing before the man who had been wading through a world of golden lies was a reminder that he once stood for something. When he saw her face, his expression changed many times. Surprise erupted first and foremost - for what were the chances of meeting a former comrade out here on a luxury liner? There was a flash of regret as he remembered the fate of their order and his own failings. For as many lives as they saved, so many were lost when it all went to shit. Abel blamed himself, partly, for not being strong enough. It was a chip on his shoulder, but one that didn't last long.

Finally, there was a smile. A genuine expression of happiness that hadn't manifested on his face in what felt forever. Oh he practiced a polished grin for the rich folk, but this? This wouldn't manifest in any board room, nor had any of the souls aboard ever seen it. Palm was the first. And just seeing her - seeing the presence of a fellow Knight - caused the tension in his posture to temporarily relax. He straightened himself, rolling his shoulders. For just a moment, the spectre of the warrior he once was stood before the woman.

"That it has," he began, agreeing with her assessment. He strolled to her side and descended into the seat. He honestly didn't think he would ever see another Knight Obsidian in this lifetime. Most were either dead, retired, or changed their allegiance to a different organization. There was no one left to carry on the good fight. All that remained were memories. "I honestly thought I was one of the last."

There was a somber edge to his voice. How couldn't there be? The fall of the Confederacy wasn't exactly the fondest of memories. He did, however, chuckle when she mentioned fate's sense of humor. "if you'll pardon the crassness, fate is an nerf herder. But it does throw us a bone every once in awhile." The warrior then leaned back in his seat whilst she sipped, contemplating her question. Did he give her the same drivel that he peddled on Naboo? Or did he answer truly?

"I've been...well, it's been a tough set of years, that's for sure. On paper I should be on cloud nine. Family business is booming, there's peace on Naboo - I could retire tomorrow and never go a day without wealth. But...Can't help but feel like I've been wasting away, y'know? Used to live for something more than filling my bank account." He waved his dominant hand, as if to shoo away his thoughts. "Bah, you get the drift. How have you been?"

Palm-Imer​

 

[Palm-Imer]

C R U I S I N G​

WEARING: XxX.
TAG: Abel Denko

Palm couldn't help the small, genuine smile that touched her lips as Abel spoke. It was a rare thing, this kind of happiness, to see someone from her past who hadn't become a ghost. For a moment, she allowed herself to bask in the warmth of that familiarity, the memories of their time with the Knights Obsidian washing over her not as a tide of pain, but of camaraderie, of shared battles and victories, of the people she had fought alongside and come to love.

Yet, as Abel mentioned thinking he was one of the last, a shadow flickered in her gaze. Gerwald. The thought of him was a thorn buried deep in her heart. Once, he had been her mentor, someone she had loved fiercely, even though his heart had always belonged to another. Their bond had been forged in the fires of loyalty and shared purpose, but it had fractured when she left to fight her own war. When she'd seen him again, he had been someone else entirely—no longer the steadfast commander, but a man who had embraced the darkness they had once fought against. Perhaps Abel was right in thinking he was the last of their kind.

But she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on Abel's words about his life since the fall. Her gaze softened as he described the life he had built after the fall of the CIS. It sounded like everything one could ever dream of—wealth, success, and peace. Yet, Palm could sense the emptiness in his words, the longing for a time when their actions had meant something more. "It sounds like you've built something truly remarkable," she began, her tone warm with genuine admiration. "Success like that doesn't come without hard work and sacrifice. But I understand... the feeling of having lost something more meaningful than...wealth and comfort." The words came out with a tinge of derision.

Palm took a breath, bracing herself as she knew the conversation would soon turn to her own past. "I didn't leave by choice," she began, her voice steady but the guilt in it unmistakable. "I had to return to Geminidae when things went dark. The Sovereign at the time... she lost her mind. She began a campaign against our own people, trying to crush anyone who didn't support the isolationist policies. I couldn't stay away, not when my home was burning. So I went back, and we fought a rebellion for almost a decade." She paused, the memories of battles fought and blood spilled flickering through her mind. "I wasn't the same person when I returned. I had seen too much, done things that..." The words caught in her throat for a moment. This was the very first time she spoke freely about what she had experienced, and she had underestimated the effect it still had on her. "There were times when I gave in, but I fought my way back to who I was, to what we stood for. Now, I'm trying to lead Geminidae towards something better, something that can open our doors to the rest of the galaxy and-"

The ship shuddered violently beneath them, and the lights flickered out, plunging the room into darkness. A murmur of confusion and fear swept through the bar, the genteel atmosphere shattered in an instant. Palm's senses went on high alert, her hand instinctively moving to the concealed weapon at her side as the emergency lights flickered on, casting the room in an eerie red glow. Then a distant, muffled sound—something that didn't belong. The noise grew louder, unmistakably the sound of blaster fire, though far off.

An announcement crackled through the ship's comm system, the voice of the crew sounding strained but authoritative. "Attention all passengers, the ship is being boarded. We urge everyone to hide and take cover immediately. Repeat, the ship is being boarded." The screaming was quick to follow.

Palm's heart raced, the adrenaline of the old days surging back. Her golden gaze snapped to Abel's, an unspoken understanding clear as day. It seemed the galaxy wasn't done with them yet.
​

 

[Abel Denko]

As Abel recounted how he had assumed that he was the last...he noticed the brief change in Palm's expression. The warrior took that to mean that he was not alone in this thinking. That she, perhaps, felt like she was alone in the Galaxy. Over the last decade, it could feel as though everything they knew quickly moved on. There were so many groups which claimed they fought for the cause that the Knights upheld, and yet those claims were always proven hollow. Abel lost count of how many times he'd turn on the holonet and see images of Jedi and other "heroes" doing things reserved for villains.

Soon, Palm shared her own thoughts on the life Abel had built for himself. Her voice was alive with respect and admiration, both things that Abel felt he didn't deserve. On paper, he had achieved much. But in his heart? Far from it. Palm then took a deep breath and began to share her own past. Abel could all but see the tangible weight on her shoulders. She didn't have to say she felt guilty, he could tell. And it didn't take telepathy to see it. She had a duty to uphold and a battle to fight - and were the circumstances of the Knights any different, she might not have fought that war alone.

Abel parted his lips. There was so much that he wanted to say - so much that he wanted to share with her. But the vessel beneath their feet shuddered. Then the lights went out. Just as Palm's instincts flared, so did Abel's - and soon his lightsaber was resting comfortably within his dominant hand. The blade remained silent for the moment. He listened closely as a muffled noise reached his ears. There was no mistaking it: blaster fire.

And all at once, years of experience came to the forefront. As an enforcer for the Black Sun, he had participated in his fair share of ship boarding. A luxury liner was a prime target for such a thing, but he had assumed there would have been an escort. So that either meant a bigger player, such as a nation, was hunting for something - or, the crew working the liner was compromised. Regardless, what took the forefront was his Obsidian training. For once, for once, Abel felt like he knew what to do. What he could do. And it wasn't fake. It was real.

Palm's gaze met his own and he rendered a simple nod. "We'll have to resume our chat after, but know this. You did what a Knight would. You led as a Knight would. Now, an entire world is seeing a brighter tomorrow because of it." He rose from his seat and faced the doors to the bar, waiting for the sounds of combat to grow even louder. "Now, let's show these fuckers how we get down."

Palm-Imer​

 

[Palm-Imer]

O N B O A R D E D​

WEARING: XxX.
TAG: Abel Denko

Palm stood still for a moment, Abel’s words echoing in her mind. You did what a Knight would. You led as a Knight would. It wasn’t just validation; it was an affirmation of the path she had chosen, despite its thorns. It was a reminder of the person she had once been and, perhaps, still was, and that the path she had walked was not one rooted in failure, but in purpose. They had both lost much, but there was something that remained—a flicker of the Knights Obsidian, still alive in both of them.

She rose to her feet, her gaze meeting Abel's with a newfound determination. "Thank you, Abel," she said, her voice steady, carrying the strength of a woman who had seen too much but refused to be broken by it. "Let's show them what we're made of."

The room was still bathed in the eerie red glow of the emergency lights, the distant sounds of blaster fire growing closer with each passing second. The bar, which a moment ago had harbored peace, had turned into a potential battlefield. The murmurs around them rose to a crescendo as the reality of the situation sank in.

The sound of heavy boots echoed through the corridors, followed by the unmistakable clatter of something metallic being dragged. The pirates were closing in.

As she stepped forward, the door to the bar slid open, revealing the chaos that had erupted in the hallway. Passengers were scrambling, some trying to find hiding spots, others frozen in fear. Palm caught sight of the first few pirates rounding the corner, their mismatched armor and weapons marking them as the kind who thrived on terrorizing the unarmed, their intentions clear as they forced doors open and dragged people out.

Her hands reached instinctively for the hilts of her lightsabers, concealed beneath her clothing. With a practiced motion, she ignited them, the ghostfire crystals within producing barely visible blades that shimmered with a haunting, ethereal glow. The ghostly light they cast was as unsettling as it was beautiful, and she could feel the familiar hum of energy coursing through the weapons, comforting. She exchanged a brief glance with Abel, then moved to intercept the nearest pirate.

Her movements were fluid and precise, each strike purposeful as she deflected blaster bolts and took down the pirates with practiced efficiency, those she could avoid to kill she spared, leaving them a crumpled unconscious mass on the floor. But her focus extended beyond just the fight, Palm was acutely aware of the passengers around her, moving to shield them, guiding them towards safer areas as she fought.

"We need to secure the passengers," Palm said, her tone urgent yet calm, the battle instincts honed by years of conflict coming to the forefront. There were safe cabins in the vessel, but herding them there, making sure no one got left behind, and facing the incoming hostiles would not be easily achieved. The pirates were also aware of this, as they moved to block the exit routes. Every life in this room depended on their ability to hold the line.

A hulking brute of a man with a vibroblade nearly as tall as he was charged at her, his roar echoing through the corridor. So that had been that dragging, scraping noise. She braced herself, her mind quickly calculating his movements. This one would require more than just a quick strike.

She met his charge head-on, ducking under his first wild swing and slicing at the armor plates on his legs. He stumbled, but didn't go down - the geminaie saw her blade dim and disappear with a loud hiss - cortosis. The man swung his massive blade again with surprising speed and a deep laugh. Palm had to focus, her every movement deliberate as she deflected his blows with her still functioning blade, waiting for the right moment to strike. The brute was strong, but his technique was clumsy, relying too much on sheer force and not enough on skill.

Palm saw her opening—his right side was unguarded for just a second, and that was all she needed. With a swift, determined motion, she struck, her lightsaber cutting through and dropping him to the ground. Her off hand saber had not yet recuperated, and more of them kept piling in. Two opened fire on her, as a third moved to flank her. She could not deflect the blasts away from herself and the scurrying passengers and deal with the third. In any other scenario this would have moved her to fear - but she was not alone.

​

 

[Jonah]

disregard.

 

[Abel Denko]

Illuminated by the crimson glow of the emergency lights, the adversaries made themselves known.

They poured in through the breached doors, hunting the passengers who fled before them into the bar room. Judging by their hod-podge aesthetic, Abel's two suspicions seemed to be cemented. Either they were the sort of pirates that he was intimately familiar with from his time in the Suns. Or these sods were working for, or were apart of, a higher power and were sent to do some dirty work. In either case, they were putting the civilians all around at risk. Abel's own lightsaber burned into existence, it's bright blue hue a beacon in the dimly lit room.

It was then that his offhand felt surprisingly light. Empty. Devoid of something that he once held in his Obsidian days but was lost during the fall. It was a simple light-buckler: a perfect pairing to his saber. With one he could defend, with the other, he could attack. Such as the Obsidian way. However, Abel would do his part to defend without the tool. If need be, he would be the shield.

Palm went before him, engaging the enemy with a brutal efficiency. She then squared up against the largest of the foes and brilliantly disarmed the beast. All the while, Abel focused on keeping the fleeing passengers out of harms way as best he could. He bowled over some of the tables that were scattered about and motioned for the guests to take cover. It was paltry compared to fleeing down the emergency hall, but it would do for now. Then, as he returned his attention to the fight, he saw pirate flanking his comrade.

"Oh. No. You. Don't!" seethed Abel. His hands rose and a wall of telekinetic fury seized the assailant. There was a sickening symphony as Abel crushed the man's legs before hurling his form back towards his fellows. The pirate wailed, drawing attention away from the wealthy passengers and placing it square on the man responsible. This was Abel's intention. Draw their ire meant drawing their fire. He rushed forward, blade moving as a blue blur in the dim light.

Then, as he stepped forward before Palm, both of his hands thrust forward. Another telekinetic wave - this time a mighty push - aimed to shove as many of the attackers as possible back into the hall. Palm would recognize this tactic from their rookie days as Knights: how to turn a scenario where few are outnumbered by many. Draw them into a tight space, which would drastically reduce the effectiveness of their numbers.

After all, that was how the Knights got down.

Palm-Imer​

 

[Palm-Imer]

O N B O A R D E D​

WEARING: XxX.
TAG: Abel Denko

Palm's golden eyes narrowed as Abel's telekinetic blast sent a group of pirates sprawling back into the hallway. The tactic was a familiar one—using the environment to turn the tide in their favor. A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she saw the pirates' disarray, the effectiveness of Abel's move now unquestionable.

But the surge of energy she felt was tempered by the teachings of her home. The soll'nav had always taught restraint in the use of the Force, especially in its more aggressive forms. Palm had learned to bend those rules over time, especially when necessity called for it, but she still felt the weight of that teaching in moments like this.

As the pirates scrambled to regain their footing, Palm advanced, her movements quick and deliberate. She moved to shield the remaining passengers, who huddled behind the makeshift barricades Abel's power had created. "Stay low, and keep moving towards the back," she instructed, her voice firm and breaking through their fear. The safety of these people was paramount, and they needed to secure them in a more defensible position. Luckily for them, the crew had managed to arm themselves and reach their location. They were taking over to protect and guide the passengers to secure cabins, reinforced and designed for such emergencies, ensuring the safety of those inside. With the crew's help, the civilians would be swiftly evacuated or locked away from the danger, freeing Palm and Abel to focus entirely on the fight.

Yet the remaining pirates weren't going to make that easy. More of them poured into the hallway, their numbers seemingly endless. Palm's lightsabers moved in a blur, the ghostfire crystals within them casting their eerie, near-invisible glow as they sliced through the air. The hallway was too narrow to fully unleash her skills, but she adapted, using the confined space to her advantage.

A sudden surge of blaster fire forced her to take cover behind one of corridor's doors. She could sense Abel nearby, holding his own against the onslaught. Their fight had taken on a rhythm, an unspoken coordination honed from years of experience. Abel's telekinetic prowess created openings, and Palm capitalized on them, darting in to strike before retreating to cover.

The pirates were relentless, though, and their desperation was evident. One of them, a wiry man with a scarred face, broke through the line and lunged at a group of terrified passengers that had lagged behind with a vibroknife. Palm's instincts kicked in—this was where the line had to be drawn. With a sharp intake of breath, she extended her free hand, and a focused burst of Force energy slammed into the attacker, sending him crashing into the wall, unconscious.

She pushed herself to her feet, the moment of hesitation passed. Palm called out to Abel, her tone laced with urgency. "We can't hold them off here forever." Her eyes flicked to a nearby entrance—an emergency hatch that likely led to the maintenance tunnels below. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than being out in the open.

The situation was dire, but Palm had been in worse. She knew Abel had too. This was just another battle, another challenge to overcome. And as long as they worked together, there was a chance—more than a chance—that they could get out of this on top.

"Cover me," she called out to Abel, before moving toward the hatch, ready to cut through any pirate that got in her way.

​

 

[Abel Denko]

For Abel, the cadence of battle caused old habits to come to the surface.

His own training had been different than Palms, for it occurred at the hands of a Sith Lord who reformed his ways under the Knighthood. Saren taught Abel how to thrive in the madness of combat. How to harness the aggression of his adversaries and to turn it back upon them. The Jedi of yore called this technique Vaapad. It was not a form of lightsaber combat that was used widely by those who hearkened towards the Light due to the corrupting nature of aggression. Reveling in one's prowess could quickly lead to the Dark Side. To use this form was to walk upon a tightrope. To fall was to fail.

And though it had been years, Abel maintained the balance.

It was heartening to see the timely arrival of the onboard staff who had armed themselves. They would handle the task of getting the passengers to safety, thereby allowing Abel and his comrade to focus on the battle at hand. And as they fought, the difference in their approach was made manifest. Whereas Palm rendered a pirate who had slipped through unconscious by slamming him into a wall, Abel took their lives in a dizzying blur. He would bat their blaster bolts back, poising the return volley to strike their exposed heads. He would clash with their blades and batter them down. His was a deadly waltz of blue light, ripping through the pirates as they advanced in the hall.

But fight as he may, the numbers reminded Abel of the fateful day when it all fell down. He was outnumbered that day, just like he was now. The monstrosities from beyond were burning Naboo to the ground. Abel held the line as long as he could, but he fell. He broke. And innocents perished because of it. This time would be different. This time, he would snatch redemption into his fist. He would not break - no matter how poorly the odds stacked against him. Palm called from behind him as she moved, telling him to cover her against the horde. He offered a hasty nod in response before setting his eyes forward. He took a purposeful step forward, anchoring himself before mustering his might.

And as a roar filled his lungs, his hands thrust forward, calling forth Judgement.

Electricity poured from his hands and soared into the hall. The pirates, who either wore metal armor or carried metal weapons, soon found themselves victim of his wrath. As they began to fall to the shock, the bolts bounced from the fallen weapons and armor, conducting the assault to the next man. There was a symphony of anguished cries from the hall - all matching the furious roar which exploded from the man's lips. Abel didn't know how long he could keep this up. But he'd hold the line.

Even if it killed him.

Palm-Imer​

 

[Palm-Imer]

O N B O A R D E D​

WEARING: XxX.
TAG: Abel Denko

Palm felt the crackle of energy before she saw it, a familiar sensation that sent a shiver down her spine. Abel's hands surged with power, the bright blue bolts of Force lightning cutting through the dimly lit corridor and arcing towards the pirates. The air was thick with the smell of ozone, and the anguished cries of their enemies filled the space. The sight was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, the destructive potential of the Force when wielded with such raw intensity.

They fell as Abel's lightning surged from one to the next, reducing their numbers in a flash. The hallway was temporarily cleared, giving them a moment of reprieve. But she knew this wouldn't last long. The pirates were relentless, and reinforcements would undoubtedly be on their way.

Palm took advantage of the temporary lull, moving swiftly towards the maintenance hatch she had spotted earlier. She glanced back at Abel, his focus still on holding the line. "This way!" she called out, her voice cutting through the fading noise of the battle. They needed to get to the tunnels before the next wave hit.

She pried the hatch open and descended, the narrow ladder leading her into the maintenance tunnels beneath the ship. The air was cooler here, the sounds of battle muffled by the thick metal above. Palm waited just long enough to ensure Abel was following before she began to move through the tunnels, her mind racing. They needed a plan, something to turn the tide in their favor.

Her eyes quickly scanned him over as his form was framed by the harsh light of the tunnels, instinctively making sure her partner was alright before pressing on. For a moment, words failed her. It had been long since she had battled like this, briefly it felt as if the years had melted away, leaving them as they once were. "It's been... a while since I've seen anyone use lightning like that, longer since I've stood shoulder to shoulder with a fellow knight." She offered him a fleeting smile.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting—a nod, perhaps, or a brief acknowledgment. But in this quiet space, there was something grounding in just speaking the words aloud. It was a recognition of a bond the memories that would never truly been broken among those who had walked their path, despite everything.

Taking a deep breath, Palm let her gaze wander down the tunnel. "We should keep moving. The pirates might not know these passages, but I doubt their leaders are as clueless." She began to walk, the soft soles of her boots barely making a sound against the metal grating.

A few turns later, the corridor widened slightly, revealing an access terminal embedded into the wall. Palm approached it, wiping away a thin layer of dust from its surface. Activating the screen, she quickly navigated through the ship's schematics. "If we can access the ship's security systems from here, maybe we can isolate the pirates or at least monitor their movements."

As her fingers danced over the interface, a sudden chill ran down her spine. A ripple in the Force, subtle but unmistakable, echoed through the tunnels. She paused, tilting her head as if listening to an unseen whisper. The presence was dark, filled with intent, and it was drawing closer.

Turning her eyes to Abel, her expression grew serious. "We're not alone down here. I sense... others. Force wielders, they're approaching." She deactivated the terminal, the screen fading to black.

Drawing her lightsabers, the ghostfire blades sprang to life. With a nod to Abel, Palm readied herself, the calm before the storm settling over her.

"Together."



​

 

[Abel Denko]

Abel had to center himself.

As his master had one taught, their way was akin to pouring out all that they were. They were an empty cup - and the Force would fill the void. Through this, they could fill themselves with the fury and aggression of their foes and unleash it back upon them. Through this, they could look upon the enemy's ferocity and render judgment. But there was a risk. One had to be sure to empty the cup in full once again, else they risked being corrupted by the very enemies they sought to contest.

So it was that as the lightning faded from his hands, Abel inhaled deeply. He could feel the bloodlust tugging at the edge of his mind. He could feel the temptation to look upon all he wrought and to feel pride. But no. He let it go. And it was timely when he did so, for Palm called out to him. Turning, the warrior watched as she pried open a maintenance hatch and dove down within it. Abel jogged over to the hatch and paused.

His dominant hand rose and clenched, crashing the doors of the bar closed behind him. Abel deliberately broke the machinery that would automatically handle the doors, hoping to slow the advance of any reinforcements. From there, he jumped down into the hatch and began to follow his comrade through the tunnels. Already his mind was like on the same wavelength as Palm - there were so many enemies and only two of them. They needed to even the odds and quickly.

Palm's voice pried Abel free from his thoughts. And her words caused a genuine smile to appear on his face. "I haven't seen anyone dance with the saber as you in just as long. But more importantly, I've missed knowing a comrade had my back." It was good to have this moment of solidarity...but the mission before them had to be seen to completion. Palm knew it, for she soon set her face back on the way ahead. Abel followed, keeping his head on a swivel.

"I'll do you one better." came Abel's response to her mention of the ship's security system. "They clearly hit the systems, as that would have easily buzzed them out a long time ago. If we can get them back on, anyone who doesn't belong aboard will be under fire." Abel had only lived through that more than once during his enforcer days. There were hidden turrets and security droids stashed all over the place. The pirates were very smart, because the only resistance the Knights noticed were the staff who managed to arm themselves.

Then, he felt it. The presence of another in the Force. Abel grit his teeth and Palm put it into words. Force wielders were on their way to contest them. That alone cemented the reality of the situation for the warrior. This was no mere robbery. This was intentional. There was someone aboard this ship who had made enemies of the wrong persons. And now, the entire liner had to pay for it. Abel readied himself. His breath fell and the cup that was Lord Denko was emptied.

"Together."

Palm-Imer​

 

[Palm-Imer]

O N B O A R D E D​

WEARING: XxX.
TAG: Abel Denko

Palm's heart rate slowed as she attuned herself to the darkness that crept closer, each footstep echoing through the tunnels like a warning. The feeling was unmistakable—these weren’t just any force sensitives; they were trained, deliberate in their movements, and strong in the Force. The moment Abel confirmed the presence of other Force wielders, it solidified her suspicions. Whoever was behind this attack was far more formidable than they’d anticipated.

The tunnel ahead remained silent, but Palm could feel the tension mounting with every step. It was the kind of silence that heralded danger. And when it did.

A flicker of movement caught her eye, and in a flash, Palm spun around to face the new threat. Two figures emerged from the shadows at the end of the tunnel, their presence suffocating as they approached. Both were clad in dark, tactical gear, their faces obscured by helmets that left only their eyes visible—eyes that burned with a cold, calculated malice.

They moved with a grace that belied their strength, their forms fluid and disciplined. Palm could sense their power, the dark side swirling around them like a storm. They were not to be underestimated.

Without a word, the first of the two drew a lightsaber, its crimson blade igniting with a sharp hiss. The other followed suit, and soon the tunnel was awash in a sinister red glow. Palm tightened her grip on her ghostfire sabers, the nearly invisible blades shimmering faintly in the dim light.

The first attacker lunged at her, moving with blinding speed. Palm parried, her blade meeting his with a crackling hum. The impact jolted through her arms, but she held firm, twisting her saber to deflect the next strike. The second foe closed in from the side, aiming a vicious overhead slash toward Abel.

Her blade caught the following attack just in time, but the force behind it was immense, nearly driving her to her knees. Gritting her teeth, Palm pushed back, her muscles straining as she redirected the blow and created enough space to recover.

But even as she refocused on her original opponent, the other attacker was already pressing forward, determined to overwhelm them. Palm could feel the danger closing in.

A swift kick to her stomach caught her off guard, sending her staggering back a few steps. Pain flared in her side, but she didn’t let it slow her down. She couldn’t afford to—not now. Summoning every ounce of her strength, Palm spun on her heel, her lightsabers whirling in a defensive arc as she advanced on her foe.

The tunnel was too narrow to maneuver freely, forcing her to rely on precision and speed. She needed to end this fight quickly, before either of them made a fatal mistake. With a burst of energy, Palm launched herself forward, her sabers striking in rapid succession. She drove the first attacker back, her relentless assault keeping him on the defensive. The geminaie had always been a duelist at her core.

Palm's heart skipped a beat, a window in which she had turned to defense - fully confident in the fact that her opponent would move to press an attack - he instead used to switch his focus and lunge towards Abel in unison with his partner. Time seemed to slow as she watched the blade arc through the air, her mind screaming a silent warning. Without thinking, she threw herself into the path of the attack with a speed that seemed impossible, her body moving on instinct alone. Her saber intercepted the strike mere inches from Abel’s torso, the impact sending a shockwave through her limbs.

The force of the blow sent Palm crashing to the ground, pain radiating from her shoulder where the attack had glanced off. Before allowing her body the milisecond it needed to process pain, a well place kicked sent her enemy flying back a few meters. She gasped for breath, her vision swimming as she struggled to put herself back up. She couldn't stop now.

The enemies before them had to be defeated.

Palm, still reeling from the blow, forced herself to her feet, determination burning through the pain. She could feel the dark side user’s attention shift toward her, sensing weakness, he would not find the satisfaction of exploiting it.

With a fierce cry, Palm threw herself back into the fray, her sabers flashing as she moved to circle him and drive her opponent towards Abel's range.

​

 

[Abel Denko]

The Dark Ones were soon upon them.

The assailants were dressed in covert operations gear. Their identities were obscured completely, yet their presence in the Force was unmistakable. This set Abel's mind reeling for a moment. Everything he knew of Dark Siders said that they were prideful creatures. Who among those fabled ilk would be willing to hide their face from their enemy? Who would prefer to be faceless in the presence of their hunt? There was something off about this - but they would have time to investigate later. Now came the time to put this threat to an end.

Palm roared and was the first into the fray. She beautifully balanced her first opponent and his comrade - and Abel waited for an opening to provide assistance. The space was tight and he did not want to hinder her own movements by diving in at the wrong time. As his fellow Knight fought on, their enemies targeted him - and she dove to his defense. Abel's eyes widened. He felt himself capable of defending himself, and yet she was so willing to dive on the sword to protect him. He could do nothing as the blow was struck.

But when she returned to his feet, righteous fury burned through his veins. Palm's sabers moved with deadly precision, forcing her target back towards Abel. And the warrior happily jumped on this opportunity. His offhand rose, commanding the Force once more. This time, a push erupted from underneath the assailant's feet, sending his form crashing directly into the ceiling. The strike dazed the assailant, who could barely put his hands down to catch his fall. Abel capitalized, moving his saber in a clean downwards arc. His blow struck true: a clean line was cut through the man's left shoulder, severing his arm free.

The muffled wail which shrieked from the helmet was loud - but Abel silenced it was a swift stab through the center.

With this assailant put down, the odds were looking in the favor of the Knights. Abel took up a position at Palm's flank, looking for an opportunity to back her up once more.

And as his comrade battled the remaining man, a fresh sensation bled in the Force. Bled from the one fighting desperately against Palm. It was not confidence. It was not bloodlust. It was fear.

Palm-Imer​

 

[Palm-Imer]

O N B O A R D E D​

WEARING: XxX.
TAG: Abel Denko

Palm's breath was ragged as the last assailant circled her, his fear now palpable. Her shoulder throbbed where the saber had grazed her earlier, the wound searing with every movement. However, pain was an old companion by now. It would take a lot more than that to break her focus or spirits.

The attacker lunged, his desperation evident in the wildness of his strikes. Palm sidestepped, allowing him to overextend before countering with a quick slash across his leg. He stumbled, hissing in pain, but Palm didn’t relent. She spun her sabers in a tight arc, close-quarters had always been where she did best, her blades keeping him on the defensive.

As he faltered, she saw her opening. Palm ducked beneath his clumsy swing and drove her saber upward, cutting deep across his torso. The attacker let out a strangled gasp, his body convulsing as the life drained from him. Palm withdrew her blade, and pushed his weight off of her, letting him collapse to the ground, motionless.

Palm staggered slightly as she deactivated her sabers, the pain in her shoulder flaring up. She pressed a hand to the wound, feeling the sticky warmth of dried blood and ooze seeping through her clothing. It wasn’t deep, but it was enough to remind her of how close the fight had been.

With her focus still too taken by the mission before them, she moved to the console, her fingers flying over the controls as she followed Abel's advice, working to reactivate the ship's defenses. The lights went green, and the sounds of the ship’s turrets engaging filled the air, a reassuring sign that she had succeeded.

She turned to Abel, her voice steady despite the lingering ache. "The ship’s defenses are back online,", a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the pain. "That should thin out the rest of them."

Palm took a moment to catch her breath. Her gaze softened as she looked at Abel, her earlier intensity giving way to something more vulnerable. "Are you hurt?" her tone was gentler now, and her question could very well come off as silly given that the only one there with a visible wound was herself. "I’m glad we managed to get through that. Together." The last word was marked by a widening of her smile, and tinged with a deep form of appreciation.

Her words carried warmth, an unspoken acknowledgment of the trust and reliance she had felt, the kind that only sharing a battle and having one's life on the line could build.


​

 

[Abel Denko]

As the last of the assailants fell by Palm's blades, Abel was able to breathe. He no longer had to keep his heartbeat pounding in his ears whilst they fought the hunters that came after them. Palm turned to the console and set her fingers to the task of reactivating the security system. Meanwhile, Abel's dominant hand reached out. The Force flung the lightsabers of the two warriors to his grasp and he stashed them both within his coat pocket. Then, he knelt beside the men.

Quietly, he assessed their forms, rolling up their sleeves and checking for anything obvious. He knew where the Cartels like to mark their men. He knew what Sith tattoos looked like. And so far there was no dice. Abel was about to close his impromptu investigation when he spied a mark just above one of the men's ankles. It was one he had never seen before. But before he could comment, Palm confirmed that the system was online.

"Score one for us." he said simply, smiling as he faced her. He noticed the blood pooling underneath her clothing and concern quickly consumed his face. Palm then had the gall to ask him if he was hurt and his hand flew up to indicate her own injury. "I should be the one asking you that. I'm fine - are you okay?" She was right about one thing. He was glad that they both managed to get through that together.

"Suffice it to say, this won't be the last you see of me." he said, shaking his head with a smile. "Life's too short not to stay in touch, especially after this. Together indeed." The man was about to suggest that they go check on the passengers, but paused. He waved her over and motioned to the man's ankle - to the symbol he had uncovered. "I figure we should go check on the guests, but first...you ever see this symbol? It's not uncommon for cartels and Sith alike to brand their members, so I'm wondering if this will give us a clue about who's responsible for the attack."

"Hell, if we're lucky maybe it'll tell us who the target was too."

Abel rose to his feet and dusted off his hands, standing by for his fellow Knight's assessment.

Tag: Palm-Imer

 

[Palm-Imer]

O N B O A R D E D​

WEARING: XxX.
TAG: Abel Denko

Palm allowed herself a moment to steady her breathing as the echoes of the battle began to fade above them, the ship's defenses achieeving their purpose. Her focus shifted back to Abel, the way he looked at her, concern written clearly in his eyes. It had been long since she had shared that moment of respite with anyone and it made her feel lighter. More herself. "A little bacta and I'll be good as new." Or well, in her case a lot of it - given her species' difficulties with healing. His words about staying in touch lingered in her mind, and she felt a need to acknowledge them.

She began, her voice soft yet filled with warmth, "We've been through a lot today… more than either of us expected. And I'm realizing that maybe we've both been through too much alone." She allowed herself a brief, genuine smile, despite the lingering pain in her shoulder. "It means something to have someone you can trust at your side when everything is on the line. I hope you know that goes both ways."

She didn't need to say more; the sentiment was clear in her tone. Gratefulness. Trust. An understanding that in this chaotic galaxy, having someone to rely on was a rare and precious thing.

As Abel waved her over to examine the symbol, Palm's attention shifted, curiosity giving way to shock as her eyes landed on the mark above the man's ankle. The warmth he had inspired just moments before was snuffed out, replaced by a cold, creeping dread. The symbol was unmistakable. The darkest corners of Palm that had been buried deep during her time as Sovereign, the ones that had led her through the rebellion with relentless determination, began to stir, roused by a rage that she had not felt in years.

She knelt beside the fallen man, her movements precise, fast, and tense. She removed his helmet with a sharp tug. The face beneath was unfamiliar, but that did nothing to stem the rising tide of anger within her. Her fingers didn't hesitate as she forced open his mouth, revealing the sequence number etched into the inside of his lower lip.

There it was— undeniable proof that this man was one of her people, a Geminaie. And not just any Geminaie, but one who bore the markings of the old regime, the one she had fought so hard to overthrow.

A dark storm began to brew inside her, the familiar pull of the dark side tugging at the edges of her consciousness. It whispered to her, promising power, vengeance, the satisfaction of seeing her enemies crushed beneath her feet. Her breathing grew shallow, the wrath she had thought mastered now threatening to consume her completely. Her grip tightened around the helmet, breaking it to pieces on the natural strength of her hands alone.

Palm's mind raced, images flashing before her eyes—the faces of those she had lost, the battles fought, the lives taken in the name of freedom. The rebellion had left its scars, and in this moment, they all seemed to reopen, bleeding into her thoughts with a ferocity that she struggled to contain. The darkness, the fury, it was all too much, threatening to drag her back to a place she had fought so hard to leave behind. The look in her eyes, the very air around her was terrifying.

But then, through the haze of her anger, she became acutely aware of Abel's presence beside her, grounding her in reality. Palm's hands tightened into fists, knuckles white as she fought to regain control, to resist the urge to give in to the darkness. He had done it, only moments before.

"Abel…" Her voice was strained, as she turned to him, eyes filled with a storm of emotions—anger, fear, vulnerability. "I… I could use your help."

The presence of someone who could understand at least a stretch of it, who had shared in the beliefs and purposes she was trying to uphold, who had proven himself reliable - could anchor her, pull her back from the brink. Palm closed her eyes, drawing in a shaky breath as she tried to find her center, but the memories were too fresh, the anger too raw.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and forced herself to speak, her voice steadier but still tinged with the remnants of her fury. "This symbol… it's from Geminidae. He's one of mine. Or was," she said, the words bitter on her tongue. "These markings—they're from the old regime, those who supported the previous Sovereign. We… we crushed them years ago. Or at least, I thought I did." She had done unspeakable things, and had believed that she could leave them behind when they were done.

Her voice trembled slightly, but she pushed on, forcing herself to confront the truth of what they had discovered. "If there are still remnants of that group out there, organized enough to stage an attack like this…" She trailed off, the implications alone threatening to make the darkness unbearable.

​

 

[Abel Denko]

When Palm spoke, the concern which dominated the man's face washed away. Given what he knew of their shared Obsidian heritage, and her own position of leadership, she was not the sort to exaggerate her wellness for his sake. If she said a little bit of bacta was all she needed, then Abel would take it at face value. Of course, he couldn't help but quip ever so slightly, now that the turrets were live and the danger was swiftly being addressed. "Uh huh. You sure you don't need me to carry you out of here? I'm sure the tabloids would eat it up."

The warrior chuckled, clearly pleased with his wit. And as his smile grew, Palm's gentle voice reached his ears once more. What she said...well...it hit Abel down to the core. Perhaps they had gone through enough alone. Perhaps...it was time to finally know there was someone out there who would their backs. "I honestly thought all I would be gaining out of today was a few new contacts and maybe a contract or two." he shook his head almost in disbelief. "And yet, here you are...I don't feel alone anymore."

Abel didn't know what sort of decisions had to be made to do so...but he didn't want to go back to feeling alone again. Ever.

The sentiment lingered in the air between them for a moment until he motioned for Palm to examine the symbol above their assailant's ankle. He anticipated that she wouldn't have a clue about its origin and that they would continue their time unimpeded until a thorough investigation could be completed. However, there was an immediate change in Palm. It was like she saw something horrifying - even though her expression remained even. She quickly knelt by his side and examined the man in her own way. The helm was removed and his lip was checked...she saw something there. Abel was able to make out numbers before she let the man's head return to the earth.

She was silent...and in that quiet the Darkness began to seep in. He could feel the storm in her mind. It empowered her so much so that she shattered the helmet in her grasp. Abel's eyebrows shot to the ceiling and he reached out, placing his dominant hand on her uninjured shoulder. "Palm..." he said, his voice just above a whisper. He didn't know what this person meant to her, but he could hazard a guess. Whoever it was...was after her.

She eventually returned to herself and spoke again. Her voice was different. Strained. Abel...hated to hear her like this. It plucked at his very soul. Palm asked for his help, to which he offered a simple nod. She had more to say and he would listen to it all. After a deep breath, she spoke once more. Fury still echoed within her words. "Loyalists." he said, consolidating her concern into a single word. This was something he was very familiar with. The Black Suns had exposed him to people like this - those who'd keep fighting, even after the territory had been lost. They believed in a cause instead of coin. Believed in a person or idea instead of finite gain.

"Say no more. You have my blade." He offered her a reassuring smile. "I'll have to sort some things out back on Naboo, but, you won't have to face this alone. We'll root them out, together."

Abel then pushed himself to his feet and offered Palm his hand.

"What do you say, partner? Shall we?"

Tag: Palm-Imer

 

[Palm-Imer]

O N B O A R D E D​

WEARING: XxX.
TAG: Abel Denko

Her feelings were threatening to drown her in their relentless surge. The fury was an old companion, one she had fought and mastered countless times, but it never got any easier. Not when the past clawed its way back with such force. She closed her eyes, willing herself to breathe, to find the center that had always guided her. The center that was now teetering on the edge of a very dark abyss.

Abel's voice cut through the chaos, soft but firm, his hand finding her uninjured shoulder. The contact was a lifeline, a tether to the present, to reality. Without thinking, Palm's hand shot up to cover his, her grip tight, desperate even, as if holding onto him could pull her back from the brink. And in many ways, it did. The storm within her stilled, not entirely, but enough for her to take a breath that wasn’t laced with rage. The physical connection, the simple act of touch, grounded her in a way that words alone could never do.

She opened her eyes, locking onto Abel’s with a mixture of vulnerability and gratitude. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to draw strength from his presence, to let him share the burden that weighed so heavily on her shoulders. His reassurances washed over her, calming the tempest just a bit more, each word a alleviating to the wounds that had been so ruthlessly torn open.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but laced with a depth of sincerity that needed no embellishment. “I didn’t expect… I never expected this.” Her grip on his hand tightened for just a second before she finally let go, reclaiming her composure.

As she spoke, the tension began to ease from her shoulders, the icy edge of her anger thawing just enough for clarity to return. Palm took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on the situation at hand, the threat they were facing, and what needed to be done next.

Abel's offer of support, his promise to stand by her side, meant more to her than she could express. Not just because of the danger they were facing, but because of what it represented. Trust. Partnership. A connection that had been forged in the fires of battle and was now being tempered in the aftermath.

Palm pushed herself to her feet, accepting Abel's hand as she did. The warmth of his touch lingered, a reminder that she wasn’t alone in this. "Loyalists," she echoed, her voice steadier now, the fury that had threatened to consume her beginning to recede. "They’re like a disease that refuses to die out."

She paused, her eyes narrowing as she considered the implications once more. "For them to be this organized, this bold… It means they’ve been preparing for a long time. And if they’ve made it this far, who knows how deep the rot goes?"

Palm glanced back down at the lifeless body of the man who had once been one of her own, the weight of her responsibility pressing down on her. "We’ll root them out," she said, more to herself than to Abel, though the resolve in her voice was unmistakable. "I won’t let this happen again."

She turned back to Abel, a small, determined smile forming on her lips. “And I’m grateful I won’t have to face it alone… it makes all the difference.”

The connection between them, the trust that had been built in such a short time, was something she hadn’t expected but was quickly coming to value. Palm nodded, more to herself than to Abel, as if sealing a silent promise.

“Let’s get back to the surface,” she said, her tone more decisive now. “We need to assess the situation, see how widespread this attack was. And then…Then, well, I'll cross that bridge when I get there.” She offered him a smile, although it was clear this one had been more difficult to produce than the ones he had seen before.

As they began to make their way back, Palm found herself walking just a bit closer to Abel, their shoulders almost brushing. The physical proximity felt natural to her, comforting even, the Sovereign had never had qualms about asking for help or relying on those she trusted. Except for that one time.

And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to believe that she didn’t have to face the darkness alone.

​