A/N I got the idea for writing this by reading My World Beyond Being a Slave by: Ezraismybae. I am using their idea, but I'm my own format.
So without Further ado, Let the chaos ensue.
Meeting
I look around the dark storage unit, and from what used to be thirty bodies of all different races and species has dwindled down to ten, scratch that, the one closest to the doors is taken thus lowering that down to nine. I take a breath out of my mouth to avoid the stench of sweat and burnt flesh, as the odor has taken over the carrier some time ago. If we weren't used to it, someone would have thrown up by now.
I scoot as far back as I can while awaiting my turn, and the shackles keeping me in the unit drag against the ground, alerting those in the area of my movement. A familiar pain over takes my left leg and as I move to sooth it, a stern cough and glare from the doors warns me and I move in slow deliberate moves until my hand is resting just above my knee, I slowly rub the spot for a bit before I sit back and the guard turns back around. While his back is turned I make the same slow movements and bring my hands up to shift the collar resting on my neck up and off the burns.
I only get a second of a soft breeze on it before a body kneels in front of me and begins to switch the chains from around my ankles for a pair of my own. I look around the carrier and finally notice how all of the other bodies have disappeared. The guard grabs my wrist shackles and drags me out like the rest, before shoving me roughly into the blinding sunlight and center stage.
I bring my bound wrist to block the light, allowing my eyes to slowly adjust to the light. Off to the right I hear the gavel hit the podium, and know that my life is about to change once again. As I look past my bangs and stare out at the crowd of people, I can't help but wonder which one will soon take control of my life. At this thought something tells me to look up, and I spot a ragtag group of four.
A run down ship lands on the outskirts of the Capital City on Lothal. The mission set about for the five crew members was shopping for ship parts and supplies for the crew. To accomplish most of this, the crew heads to the back alleys and side markets to avoid imperials. In going this route they find one of the more deplorable practices of the republic, a stage set apart from the rest of the market that hosts a slave auction.
A young Twi'lek is lead off stage, and a slim youth is push on to replace her. Kanan watches as the boy limps lightly to center stage, nearly tripping due to the oversized pants dragging on the floor. The pants are only kept up thanks to the draw sting pulled taunt while the large shirt hangs off one shoulder. The shackles and chains around his wrists and ankles make him seem smaller than he is, with a collar around his neck and dirt caked on every inch of his body. His disheveled hair hangs past his shoulders and is unevenly cut, with bangs hanging in his face hiding it from view.
The crew is about to move on when the boy on stage looks past the tangles of hair, and a pair of eyes the color of the clearest skies, glances over the crowd.
As the boys eyes pass over the ragtag group, Kanan felt a stirring in the force, just as the auctioneer began the introductions. "Our last slave is a native Loth-rat acquired at the young age of nine. He has been in our possession for five years, and trained in a large range of jobs. Now, before you let his scrawny stature and slight disabilities deter you, this boy here is as hard a worker as they come. We'll start the bid at 10 credits."
The rest of the crew see that Kanan has stopped at the back of the bidding crowd and is studying the youth on stage. A moment passes, and to the shock of the crew Kanan raises his arm and shouts out "40 Credits!"
Hera drags his arm down a second too late as the bid is already acknowledged, "What are you doing bidding on a slave?" He ignores her in favor of raising the bid with a shouted "80 Credits!"
"Kanan!" Hera screeches
"I can sense him Hera, through the force." as he says this he hears someone in the crowd shout out "110 Credits!"
"Kanan, we don't have the credits for this, we need to get the supplies first."
He stops to think this over as the bids begins to stager, and nearly stopping at 130 credits. The next bid raises the total by ten. Kanan and Hera look to his left where Sabine stands raising Kanan's hand in a way that the auctioneer can't see. "I think you should help him." is all she says as she studies the dirt clad youth on stage, remembering a time when she was forced to do something against her will.
"Do I hear a 145, 145 credits for this fine slave." A few glances were shared among the crowd, The auctioneer seems to hesitate for a moment before hitting the podium. Kanan can see a look of discontent overtake the auctioneer's face at not being able to earn more off of the boy. "Than the last slave goes to the gentleman in the back. Come back stage to make your payment and claim your slave."
As he says this the boy limps back stage with what could only be described as a look of fear and apprehension. While the crowd dispersed. Before the boy disappears backstage Kanan catches the fear in the force and can only assume something will go wrong.
A/N yay cliffhanger and again this idea isn't mine I used the story listen above as inspiration, but added my own touch. Let me know what you think in the comments below.