Darklight: Chains (Prologue)

Fan Art / Fan Fiction / General Fiction

Title: Darklight
Chapter: Prologue
Author: eboncat
Fandom: SWTOR
Characters/pairings: Male Twi'lek, miscellaneous Sith,
Rating: This chapter is T (The story will range from PG to MA depending on the chapter.)
Disclaimer: SWTOR is Bioware's universe, I'm just playing in it. I make no money from this work of fan fiction, and the only thing I own are the original ideas in my head, and my original characters that I have inserted into Bioware's awesome world. Any resemblance to real people living or dead is pure coincidence.

The young Twi'lek pressed his fist against his stomach, willing it not to growl. If he made any noise that gave him away now, who knew when he would get another chance to make a grab this big. He could feed himself, his family, and half the kids in his building for weeks on a pile of unlocked creds like this skirt had on him. As much as he hated this place and its Hutt overlords, he had to admit that the slug-like rulers of the planet kept the creds rolling in for the more shady inhabitants of the area. There was never a shortage of fools with an addiction and too much money to spare. This fool was special though. And Rich. Unfortunately his target was also a fragging skirt.

Problem was, like everyone dumb enough to trudge around this swamp of a planet wearing a dress, the boy's mark was a Sith. They were dangerous. Most people couldn't see the blue skinned youth in this light if he didn't want to be seen, but these guys... they were always hard marks. They saw shit that no one else could see. It was like they could sense him there in the shadows.

The tall robed man wandered up to a stall, casually checking out the stims that the dodgy lookin' alien was trying to flog for one of the slugs. The boy moved behind the stall. He crept around to a spot within reach but out of sight of the Sith. As the Twi'lek advanced on his target, the mark pulled his pouch from a fold in his robe and withdrew a couple of cred chips. The small bag dangled enticingly on his belt as he attempted to haggle the salesman down in price. The little thief waited patiently, listening to the lilt of the Sith's accent as he became more engrossed in his bargaining. The timing had to be perfect.

As the Sith's bargaining reached a crescendo, the young thief carefully reached forward. In one fluid motion he slit the strap attaching the pouch to the Sith's belt, and tucked it into his pocket. At the same moment his other hand looped a similar sized pouch full of pieces of broken plastic in it's place. A final check of his handy work, and he was back in the shadows and down the street in an instant. The only sign of his passing was a faint momentary distortion in the air behind him, and swirling dust where his feet had been.

The boy had made it no more than a couple of blocks before his mouth started watering and his stomach cramped, his small body demanding that he go buy food now that he had the means to feed himself. He bit the inside of his cheek and reached into a pocket, pulling out a piece of plastic like the ones he had used to stuff the fake purse. He popped it into his mouth, giving himself something to chew on until he felt safe enough to go buy something edible. How long had it been since he had eaten anything other than the foul tasting weeds that grew on the outskirts of town, or an occasional barely edible morsel that someone had dropped on the road? A week? Longer?

He rolled his brilliant green eyes and shook such pointless thoughts from his head. He needed to hunker down and wait. Eating would do him no good at all if he was caught and thrown to the slugs or their pets for entertainment. Still hugging the darker side of the street, he edged his way out of the market and jogged down a dirt path leading away from the town. About a half a kilometer down the road he stopped and crouched in some thick bushes. He looked around to make sure no one was watching.

When he was satisfied that he was definitely alone, he bolted for a large sprawling tree across the clearing. In well practiced movements he climbed the tree almost to the very top. Once he was settled in the cradle shaped by the intersecting branches of the tree, he pulled out a piece of bark from the trunk and placed all of the cred chips inside the makeshift hiding hole. He then pulled out two that he had placed in there months before on a previous venture and put those in his pocket. Trying not to feel too paranoid he checked one last time to make sure no one saw him climb the tree. Feeling as secure as he could, the young Twi'lek finally curled up to try and sleep until sunrise.

The young thief was woken a few hours later by the sound of hover vehicles bringing in the merchants who worked the morning shift. Traders who's items were better suited to daytime clientele.

Shimmying down the trunk of the tree, he dropped the last few feet onto the top of one of the vehicles that was heading into the town. A couple of blocks from the market area, he leaped from the roof of the vehicle and swung onto a street sign, then slid down to the ground.

Looking over his shoulder, he darted down an alley and pulled a small piece of plating off the side of the building. Wriggling inside, he replaced the makeshift hatch and quickly scrubbed himself down with an old rag and some water that he had left in a bottle. Once clean he wriggled into some new pants and a synthleather vest that he kept hidden for emergencies.

He allowed himself a few moments just to breathe, to feel clean and decent instead of feeling like a gutter rat who stole to survive. Chuckling to himself, he practiced speaking in the accent that the skirts used. It always sounded so smooth, not like the rough accent that the slaves and workers used where he lived. It was as if the Sith had more time and energy to say their words properly. Like they knew that what they were saying actually mattered. Picking the dirt and bark from under his nails, he wondered what it felt like to know that whatever you said, people would actually be hearing you.

"Enough sulking boy!" he muttered in a perfect Imperial accent. Wondering if his mother would even be home or conscious when he finally got their room, he slid back into his own common accent. "It is your mother's name day... an' she's prolly too fracked up on stims to 'member but that don't mean ya shouldn't bring 'er somethin'."

He pulled his lekku over his shoulders to check that all the dirt was cleaned off . All his work would be pointless if he didn't look the part. Mentally snapping his Imperial accent back into place, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat, then he gathered up the cred chips and headed back out to the street. This time when he entered the market he was a young wealthy customer, not a thief.

That night, the boy had the best night he would have for many, many years to come. His mother was sober, his baby brother was well fed and he was content for the first time he could remember. Soon he would look back on it and feel something close to hatred.

That night, a Sith Lord was called urgently away from the planet, leaving his favorite apprentice behind. That apprentice was under strict instruction to call his Master the moment he discovered the identity of the untrained Force user living on the planet.

That night a string of events were set in motion. Those events would result in consequences that no one involved could ever have predicted.