The suns were blazing as the transport lurched to a stop.
She gathered her jacket and backpack and moved in line behind the others to exit the shuttle. She didn’t like the smells emanating from some of the creatures aboard.
And she was pretty certain the Bothan sitting in back was smuggling spice, his duster was bulkier than it should have been.
Who wants to hurl every 15 minutes just to get amped up for a bit? She had heard that stuff was terrible for you.
She drew her belongings closer to her and kept her head down. It was easier if she tried to blend in. Murmurs of slavery were overheard when they had first boarded.
As they shuffled towards the exit, she thought back to what her Aunt had told her if something ever happened and they should be separated.
“Child, you must get an education, for I cannot teach you what you need to know in this new world.”, she said intently in between coughs.
Her Aunt had the dust sickness, and was trying to sound gentle, but her words came out sounding like a dying mynock. Her glassy green eyes betrayed how she was feeling, as they were usually bright and twinkling, full of humor, but now the sickness had taken its toll, sapping what energy it left her with after the coughing attacks.
She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and peered through watery eyes at the looming front of the line. Now was not the time to deal with this, she needed to appear strong. As she reached the agent checking travel documents, she tried to look into his eyes, but she could not see through his dark lenses. He nodded at her and indicated she was free to disembark after he glanced at her documents.
No one cares about your pain, she thought to herself as she shielded her eyes from the glare of the suns. Her eyes darted around the city, which looked like every other city on this rock; sandy, dusty, stormy and hotter than the lava on Mustafar she imagined.
Finally, as she wandered through the marketplace her gaze landed on a table filled with plates and dishes upon dishes of delicacies from far and wide. Monitoring his spread proudly, a short and burly Zabrak with the blackest horns she had ever seen, met her gaze. His expression changed from one of pride, to one of concern as he ushered her to sit down and eat.
She politely refused, but he insisted. She started in on the bowl he placed in front of her, as she made herself comfortable. It didn’t take her long to feel sated, so she bravely asked him if he was looking for an apprentice. Her fondness for helping her Aunt in the kitchen when she was younger might be of some use here in this new place she thought.
She smiled with relief as the Zabrak grunted and shoved an apron towards her, indicating she should get to work.
What path will you choose when you come home?