Private The Jedi, The Beast, and One Hutt too Many

[Goros the Hutt]

Kriffin' Cantina Collective, with an Outer-Rim Light-Bardcore Bithswing

Goros the Hutt was as fat, pink, and greedy as ever, with his fingers in every kind of pie—both literal and figurative. He gorged himself, devouring trays upon trays of food, carried by slaves who stretched out across his large domain. And this was just the first course. Even by Hutt standards, he was massive; his hoversled was the only thing supporting his immense bulk, outfitted with so much FFE gear it shouldn't have been possible to cram it all in.

His location was ever-shifting, and elusive, with more enemies than a bad Corellian blockade runner. Few ever caught a glimpse of him, which made today's sighting all the more infuriating to sensibilities. His usual three rings of guards were in place: the outermost made up of street-triad punk kids eager for an opportunity, the middle layer of hardened bought mercenaries, and finally, his own lethal enforcers. The inner ring was heavy with Trandoshans, Rodians, and the occasional Houk. Even today, getting a look at him was a challenge.

Goros paid well and wasn't overly cruel to most of his slaves, but his Twi'lek captives suffered the worst—branded and malnourished as punishment for an uprising that had left him… redacted.

Near the entrance stood a handful of freelancers: Kas Varad drinking like usual, Project Uriel getting an oil change, and the Pirate Lord Squeeb , whiskers twitching, squeaking to announce his arrival, careful to avoid being stepped on. Today was a day of days, an event not to be missed. In honor the Kriffin Cantina Collective, a band he'd won in a game of sabacc, lowered their volume but didn't stop.

"Koose cheekta forward."

A figure encased in ray shields that followed her every step for good reason

Bring her forward, in this case simply meant inside the first ring of guards. More guns and blades than could be counted were trained on them. Given who she was, no chances were taken, and nobody got too close—except for a couple of triad street punks in patchwork armor, with more guts than sense. Goros had long armed small gangs, pitting them against each other to test his weapons. Young dumb and foolish, one of the older mercs shoved them back out of the way. Revealing her to be none other than... Valery Noble .

Ho hoho hooooooo. He burped, Ho. Swallowing half a bird leg the size of a man.

"Trespassing noleeya myo domain. Choy? Should mee do gee u, jedai?"

She had seen too much in her tomb raiding. His operations, his people—he couldn't risk the connection to a Sith tomb being discovered, or the financing of his empire. Despite who she was, because of it. A charismatic red zeltron speaker stepped onto a platform, looking over the guard rings, "His excellency and most magnificent Goros the Hutt asks what he should do with trespassers?" There was a vocal alien response from the crowd, mixed and varied in tone, some glasses clinking.

The crowd was already placing bets! Credits exchanging hands. Then, with an audible clunk, ray shields contained her, and the floor beneath her began to lower. Finally dropping the rest of the way toward the deepy sandy pit to her full release. Goros the Hutt was nothing if not a sucker for the classics. Sadly, with no easy door out like the holovids! In the corner waking was...

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Adventure outfit

The world was still spinning.

It wasn't often Valery found herself in this kind of situation — not anymore. But even the best made mistakes, and hers had been walking straight into a Sith tomb without a proper way out. She hadn't expected the trap. One wrong step, a sharp crack of energy against her skull, and now… this.

Her fiery gaze flickered open, and the scene before her came into focus. A grotesque Hutt, Goros, surrounded by rings of armed thugs, mercenaries, and opportunists eager to see what happened next. Cheers, laughter, credits exchanging hands — all as if this was nothing more than a sporting event.

Her teeth clenched, but she didn't speak. Not yet.

She tested her limbs, rolling her shoulders slightly. Scratches, bruises — nothing too serious. They had stripped her of her weapons, of her tools, but they hadn't taken everything. The Force still flowed through her veins, and she wasn't dead yet.

That was their mistake.

The Zeltron speaker's words washed over her, the Hutt's bloated amusement vibrating through the chamber. What should be done with her? The answer was already decided. She could hear it in the rowdy response of the crowd, in the clinking of glasses, in the knowing smirk of the guards watching her carefully, knowing exactly what came next. Valery exhaled sharply through her nose. At least they didn't try turning her into a dancer.

Then, the floor gave way.

The drop wasn't far, but it was fast, sand rushing up to meet her as she hit the pit floor on her hands and knees. Dust curled around her, the grainy texture sticking to the sweat on her skin as she quickly pushed herself up, spinning to glance at the sheer walls rising above.

No handholds. No doors.

And the cheering was only getting louder.

Valery straightened, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face, her jaw tightening as she glanced around the pit, "You sure it has to be this way?" Valery called out, her tone confident and smug despite the circumstances, "This isn't going to end well, you know."

Goros the Hutt Xrgggnka ​

 

[Xrgggnka]

Tag: Valery Noble​

Some of the punk kids at the top of the pit jeered down, while the more experienced ones kept well back from the edge. A few cameras tracked the action below, one tilting to capture her face from high above the rocky, sand-choked cavern.

"His Magnanimousness promises a quick end and asks if you have any last words?"

A rumble came nearby, something stirring in the dark, clear warning in the force.

Smell.

Instinct awoke by the scent of food.

The beast shifted, heavy limbs dragging chunks away from the rocky floor. Caged since the fall of the elders. Not starved, but hungry, peckish. A grating breath churned from its throat as it shook itself free from slumber. One massive foot slammed to the ground. Then another. Raising… Raising… Raising…

Looming in the shadows of the room, with shins thicker than a man's body. Xrgggnka's muscles rippled beneath hide that might turn a blaster bolt. It sniffed at the air, nostrils flaring upward. Predatory eyes blinked and adjusted. Black armor plated its lower legs and feet. Joints reinforced, weak points covered: the neck, the knees, the temple—durasteel. A warmount once. A beast trained to serve. But there was something more foreboding about why the Primeval had chosen this one.

Jedi versus Rancor, a tale as old as time. But this was no ordinary Jedi.

And this was no ordinary Rancor.

Fourteen meters of muscle and rage. A half bull, footsteps crashed home like trees falling, each one sending tremors through the pit, shaking loose sand and stone. Nails curled in like curved daggers, its teeth fearsome and yellow, sharpened for the hunt.

Fully in view the beast looked at her.

And then, it bellowed.

The roar extended long and deep, unnatural in its pressure, cracking a stone beside it.

For the Force did not only flow through the Jedi.

It flowed through the beast as well.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Adventure outfit

Last words?

Valery scoffed, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms. "I've heard that one before," she muttered, shaking her head. It was always the same with these types — Hutts, warlords, slavers. They all thought they had her where they wanted her, thought that some grand spectacle would be the end of her. They were always wrong.

But then the ground trembled beneath her feet.

A low, guttural rumble shook the air, rolling through her bones like a storm breaking in the distance. The smell hit next — thick, musky, tinged with old blood and the unmistakable stench of something far too familiar. Her smirk faded. The shadows shifted. And then, it rose.

Oh. Well, shit.

Her breath hitched as the massive, heavily armored Rancor emerged from the darkness, its hulking form towering above her, its reinforced plates gleaming in the dim light. Fourteen meters. Durasteel plating. Trained for war. Her jaw tightened as she took a step back, gaze darting across the sheer walls of the pit. No easy escape. No easy way out. And worse—

The Force churned inside it.

Then it roared.

The sound was unnatural, enhanced by something deeper than mere biology. The Force carried the roar like a shockwave, tearing through the air, shaking the entire pit with raw, concussive power.

Valery barely had time to react.

She braced herself, the Force snapping to life around her in an instinctual shield. Even so, the sheer force of the bellow battered her, her torn clothes whipping violently in the wind of its fury, her long ponytail snapping like a banner in a storm. Sand swirled around her, stinging against exposed skin, forcing her to plant her feet to keep from being thrown off balance.

A normal person would have been flattened. A lesser Jedi would have faltered. But Valery was neither. Slowly, she exhaled, lowering her hands from where she'd braced against the impact. Her amber eyes, sharp and unwavering, locked onto the beast. Not with fear. Not with challenge. But with understanding.

Reaching out through the Force, her presence softened, steady and patient, a calm whisper threading its way toward the creature's mind. "Easy now," she murmured, her voice carried not through sound, but through the invisible current that bound all living things. She did not push. She did not dominate. She simply was.

"I am not your enemy. I'm no snack, either." She paused, her eyes following the beast, "You don't belong in a cage any more than I do." She took a slow step forward, keeping her movements controlled, measured. No sudden gestures. No signs of aggression.

"Let me help you."

Xrgggnka ​

 

[Xrgggnka]

Xrgggnka shook its head from side to side, shaking off the last remnants of slumber. Its mind was simple; this terrifying act was its morning routine: waking and standing as it always did, a territorial shout, instinct-driven and without rush, a predator making sure it wasn't challenged. Instead, a strange tone dwelled in its thoughts, oddly calming. Mood, instinct, simple gestures from Valery.

It snorted, sniffing the air. Its sense of smell was sharp, heightened further by its connection to the Force, a guiding instinct that outweighed anything else in its decision-making. Was she food or not? Squishy but different.

Bull rancors were naturally aggressive, but Xrgggnka had been trained, then caged and restrained, and was irate about it. It was a small place with far too few rocks, places to sleep, or food.

But he was hungry, and that was his instinct. Wake up, then breakfast.

For a Jedi with the gift, the simplicity of these thoughts would be easy to read. The massive head lowered to ten meters above, studying her more fully, chewing something over in its oversized maw. A heavy stomp closer sent vibrations rippling through the pit's floor, scattering sand and stone.

Behind him, an impressive collection of rocks was neatly stacked—as if he cared for them—lined up beside a pile of bones.

With slow, deliberate intent, the creature swung a massive hand toward her, reaching. A speeder truck-sized palm descended from on high, attempting to scoop her up, to enclose her in curiosity. There were other connections tangled in the beast's Force aura, fragments of places it had been, owners it had once served, mysteries to unlock. But right now more pressing concerns might impress upon the Jedi Grandmaster, such as not becoming food!

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Adventure outfit

Valery exhaled sharply, her fiery gaze flicking upward as the massive Rancor studied her, its nostrils flaring as it took her scent into that thick skull of its. For a moment, she could feel it—thoughts, simple as they were, driven by instinct. Hunger. Frustration. A dull irritation at its confinement. It didn't want to be here any more than she did.

But then — its thoughts turned back to food.

Her.

Figures…

She sighed, shifting her weight slightly as her muscles coiled, ready. "Of course, it's always about breakfast," she muttered under her breath. Then, the claw came down, and Valery moved.

She tapped into the Force, her body responding in an instant as she rolled sharply to the side, sand kicking up beneath her. The massive speeder-truck-sized palm slammed into the ground where she had just been, sending tremors through the pit. Stone cracked under the impact, a gust of displaced air buffeting against her as she landed lightly on her feet several meters away.

Her gaze flicked toward the stacked pile of rocks behind him. Not just random debris… She could tell by the way they were arranged — neat, intentional. A strange contrast to the pile of bones beside them. This beast had more going on in that head than just hunger.

She made a mental note of the rocks, just in case. Slowly, carefully, she began backing toward them, her stance shifting — still cautious, but not aggressive. She wasn't going to push her luck with this thing.

"Hey," she called out again, her voice threading into the Force, steady, calm. "You don't want to do this. You're not just some mindless beast, are you?" Her presence extended outward, weaving through the Force with careful precision. She wasn't commanding it. She wasn't dominating it. She was simply showing it a different path.

"You don't belong in a cage," she continued, taking another slow step back. "I can get you out of here. Let me help you." Her fingers flexed at her sides, body still poised to move in an instant if she had to. The Rancor was still dangerous, still unpredictable, but she wasn't giving up just yet.

Not until she was sure she had no other choice.

Xrgggnka ​

 

[Xrgggnka]

Breakfast finely balanced upon the scales of a home-baked decision, woven by the steady voice of an experienced Jedi, instinct a real battleground, and something else.

The giant hand swept down but caught only sand and stones—good for Jedi Grandmasters, bad for his curious gaze. Xrgggnka rumbled low in his throat, jaw chomping as he lifted his grasp, expecting a squishy curiosity. But Nothing. A confused blink matched his growl. His giant head slowly moved around toward her, and the floor trembled with each heavy stomp as the gargantuan body turned.

Above the pit, the crowd howled with laughter, jeers, and cheers, depending on how long they had bet Valery would last. Their scene fed through undervine and undernet holofeeds, flickering in cramped, dusty cantinas, eyes glued to screens as a lone Jedi stood unarmed against a beast many times her size.

A roar came half from temperament, part hunger—his natural posture adjusting to being part instinct, part force connection, but hunger wasn't the only thing that stirred him. A feeling came from his elbows, something wrong.

Her tone wasn't fearful enough to trigger the chase, nor challenging enough to inspire the hunt. Valery's words didn't fully translate, but the sounds carried simple triggers. Out. Help. Cage. His head lowered further this time, resting at seven meters or half height, nose sniffing out the truth. She'd reached him in calm steady voice, their force connection aiding the translation. A great lift carried high eyes to the pit's edge, then back to her, feeling, tone and any scent in the force impossible to separate from instinct.

Beneath thick hide and durasteel plates, something else weighed in—coded jolts pushing him forward. Subtle, but not completely invisible on a giant this size. Haxion Brood tech. Hidden at both the elbows, sending forced commands through cybernetic links. He snarled at the sting, and his arms swung wide in a wild, unfocused arc, the force behind them like a speeder fully cornering. Keth-like experimentation never ended.

Above, a certain pink Hutt let out a long, rolling hoho… hoooo, pausing only to devour another man-sized snack. Goros never willingly parted with his tools, despite his redacted nature, Valery might need to be clever to avoid the fight he was selling, credits rolling in across his connections even now. Business never slept, and he always played an angle to win.

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Adventure outfit

Valery's fiery gaze flickered, watching the beast closely, every twitch of its muscles, every shift in its weight. She had reached it — somewhere — past the hunger, past the instinct, past the primal nature that dictated its every thought. It had understood her, even if only in the simplest way. But then something changed.

A flicker of discomfort. A jolt through its massive limbs. A reaction it hadn't chosen. Valery's eyes sharpened. It's being controlled or given orders somehow. Her gaze traced the unnatural way its body responded, following the forced movements back to the source — its elbows.

Her stance shifted, weight grounding, but her body remained fluid. She didn't draw aggression, didn't meet its wide, powerful swing with reckless defiance. Instead, she lifted a hand, and with a sharp pull of the Force, the rocks behind her lifted. One by one, they rose, weightless despite their size, hovering in a loose orbit around her. They weren't projectiles yet, not weapons, not yet — but they could be. And even a predator understood when a fight wasn't worth the risk.

The Rancor had spent its life in a cage, in a pit, being told when to fight, when to eat, when to kneel. But here, now, it had a choice. She reached out again, her presence wrapping around it like a steady current, neither crushing nor drowning — just existing. A firm, quiet power.

"I see them," she murmured through the Force, her words not commanding, not overpowering, but weaving into its simple, primal mind. "They're forcing you to fight me. But you don't have to." A pause. A slow exhale. The floating rocks remained, waiting, watching.

"I can still get you out of here."

A warning. A promise. A path.

Its choice.

Xrgggnka ​

 

[Xrgggnka]

Stumbling around in a blind, pained fury, its massive arms crashed into the pit's walls, threatening collapse. Dust and debris rained down. With a guttural sore snarl, it slammed its fists into the sand like a youngling might kicking up a drift of it.

Its breathing grew heavier. Pain wracked its elbows, fueling an ongoing frustration. It smashed its arms against the durasteel walls, but the plates refused to come off when it tugged, because its hands were just too big and clumsy to get a good grip.

As the rage subsided, its head tilted, its gaze settling on the levitated rocks. It stared, almost mesmerized. Rocks. Good. Amid the throbbing pain, a thought came, slowly forming. The smooth, shiner little ones should be lined up! A thick finger lifted, pointed at one, as if wanting to take it.

A few solid denting punches to its own elbows signalled another jolt coming through its limbs, and then:

ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR.

The sound was near-deafening, shattering stone and sending shards flying. Dust erupted, a swirling sandstorm obscuring sight, making it impossible to tell where it was, what it was doing, for one without the force, the decision made.

THUD.
THUD.
THUD.

The sands settled. Almost on top of her now, a hulking form loomed, bending down at the knees.

The laughter from above cut off. A chorus of bemused exclamations followed, best summed up as: Huh?

Jedi war mount acquired.

If she could ride the Bucking Bull out of this place, or maybe she had a different idea?

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Adventure outfit

Valery's smirk curled into something absolutely feral as the dust settled, revealing the hulking form crouched beneath her. She was on top of the Rancor.

Oh, hell yes.

A delighted laugh bubbled from her throat, the kind of laugh that only came from someone who lived for moments like this. The kind that made her feel truly alive. She tightened her grip slightly, steadying herself as the massive beast shifted beneath her, its heavy breathing vibrating through its thick hide.

" Kahlil Noble is going to love this," she murmured to herself, half in amusement, half in anticipation of his inevitable reaction. Because, oh, he was going to have a reaction.

But first, they had a pit to escape.

Valery exhaled, centering herself in the Force as she reached out, not with control, but with understanding. The Rancor didn't need to be tamed—it just needed direction. She let her presence wrap around its mind once more, steady and firm.

"The door."

An image. A feeling. The way forward. This was an escape. And then, they reached it. A massive durasteel gate, reinforced and heavy — designed to keep the beast in. But if it was big enough to allow this beast into this cage, it would also be big enough for them to get out.

Valery smirked.

She lifted her hand, fingers curling as she reached into the Force. For a brief moment, everything went still. The tension of the fight. The roars from above. The sheer weight of everything pressing down around them. And then—

CRACK.

The gate shattered in a cascade of metal fragments, shards of durasteel reduced to dust in an instant. The air rippled with the shockwave of power, the sheer force of it sending onlookers scrambling.

Oh, yeah.

This was going to cause some chaos.

Xrgggnka ​

 

[Xrgggnka]

Inspired by his rider's talent for breaking things, the beast let out a huffing snort of approval, a deep, vibrating sound like a great horn blaring from the depths, laughter? The only thing that paused a step was the rock collection he had to leave behind—that emotion and thought forefront of his simple mind. But Valery was exactly as she needed to be—confident and steady in showing the way.

Food flew everywhere above. In a flurry of customer complaints, Goros' many buffets and diners were thrown into chaos; patrons froze mid-feast posting scathing holonet reviews. Panic settled in, and undervine feeds lost track of the pair from the pit. The broken door led into a huge, arid tunnel network stretching beneath their captors' domain. The bowels of this place were littered with machinery, cybernetics, and strange, body-sized contraptions. A few unfortunate Twi'leks lay lifeless in their cold, uncaring grasp.

Huddled together, a group of bemused slavers, droids, and cyberneticists barely had time to react before the door shattered. "Well, I must protest this is most..." Before even a snarky protocol droid could demand an explanation, Xrgggnka's massive backhand sent several bodies flying. A shuddering stomp followed, making the ground tremble; those too close would do well to stay on their feet or be squashed underfoot!

A steady rider and clear instructions made all the difference to the beast—like a well-trained warhorse, only ten times the size and with a seething pain at its elbow. The rancor half-bucked its jolted limbs flaring with agony. Instinct screamed at it to lash out, and sharp, relentless zaps at its joints kept it reeling, the pain threatening to unseat Valery if she couldn't rein it in or assist its control.

Below, handlers swarmed with oversized force pikes, their strategy clear—keep up the jolts, keep their distance. Excessively long poles jabbed at the beast, sparking with every strike, trying to drive it back. Further down the tunnel, Goros' men scrambled to erect a makeshift barricade, mounting a stun weapon, and apply more static bursts. A simple strategy but a sound one.

But it waited... pausing... despite the jolts, it was waiting for her command; instinct had something else to balance it.

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Adventure outfit

Valery gritted her teeth as the Rancor bucked beneath her, its massive frame twisting in pain from the relentless jolts of electricity. The handlers were smart — not trying to bring the beast down outright, but keeping it disoriented, forcing it into a state of agony that would drive it into a blind rage.

She wasn't about to let that happen.

"Focus on me!" she called out, her voice cutting through the chaos, her presence anchoring itself deep in the beast's mind. The pain was real. The instinct to lash out, to kill, to crush — that was real. But she poured her strength into the Force, wrapping around the Rancor's will like a steadying hand.

"We don't need to fight them. We just need to go."

As if to punctuate her words, another jolt surged through the beast's limbs, causing it to stagger. Valery moved.

With a flick of her wrist, the air between them and the handlers exploded outward. A shockwave of pure kinetic energy, invisible but undeniable, slammed into the men wielding the pikes, sending them flying like ragdolls. Weapons clattered to the ground, some of the poles snapping in half from the sheer force of impact.

With a firm nudge in the Force, she then directed its attention down the tunnels — toward the exit. The barricade ahead was already being fortified, stun turrets humming to life, but Valery was already moving, already acting. Her free hand lifted, fingers curling.

The tunnel shook.

Metal plating groaned, stone cracked, and with a final, crushing force, the ceiling above the barricade collapsed. Not enough to bury the tunnel completely — just enough to send the defenders scrambling back, to break their formations, to clear a path.

She grinned, amber eyes gleaming.

"Now charge."

Xrgggnka ​