Scene: "Smoke and Silence" The old starport hadn’t seen traffic in years.. official traffic, anyway. Half-collapsed hangar doors groaned in the wind, and the power grid flickered at inconsistent intervals, bathing the control deck in pulses of blue light. Whatever this place had once been..checkpoint, trade hub, or garrison.. it now served only one purpose: secrecy. Leia stood near the holo-table at the center of the control deck, a folded datapad in her gloved hands. Her white field uniform was stained from travel, her boots scuffed from hours on rocky terrain. But she looked focused. Composed. Unshaken. The Resistance cell that operated here had cleared out days ago. A few crates marked “agricultural supplies” still sat near the door..probably blasters. The transmission she was waiting for hadn't come. Not yet. And in her experience, delayed usually meant compromised. A distant creak echoed down the corridor. She didn’t move, but her eyes lifted sharply toward the sound. Footsteps. Not many. She kept one hand near her belt..blaster holstered, but close..and waited. Then she spoke, voice steady, low, and calm: "This isn’t exactly a tourist port. So unless you’re here to deliver codes or offer a ship... I suggest you explain yourself. Fast." No panic. No fear. Just the unmistakable steel of a woman who had seen too many betrayals to be caught off guard again.