Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of Disney and Lucasfilm Ltd., with which I am not affiliated in any way whatsoever. (Not that I don't want to be.)
Ashaarla Kestahor was nearly bouncing out of her seat with excitement. Today was it! Today was the day! She hadn't been off-world since she was a baby, and now she was getting to go on a Star Tour all by herself! She'd read all about it beforehand: the ship was a Star Tours StarSpeeder 1000 passenger transport, Number B-68 to be exact, bound for Bespin where they were to stay at a resort in Cloud City, cost covered by the Star Tours fare. The date had been set five months ago, and she now thought it had been well worth the agony of waiting. Ashaarla was somewhat more starship-savvy than her Cathar friend, as she was rather a quick study and had done quite a bit of research on the subject. Understandably.
It had been proven, in the local university's flight simulator, that there was nothing Ashaarla liked better than a wild ride.
Kyarra Nelik shifted nervously, surveying her surroundings. Her fur was starting to feel itchy and hot, a sure sign that something was bound to happen, or at least that something was nagging at her subconscious. What had that Passenger Information Pamphlet said this ship was called? Number B-68? While that Togruta acquaintance of hers, Ashaarla something, had been gazing around in wonder at the spaceport, Kiara had watched the ship: there had been some issue with cleaning the viewport, a protocol droid had gotten in the cockpit for some reason while the driver exited...had the protocol droid gotten out again? Was that what was worrying her so much, that maybe they didn't have the right driver when the ship was due to take off any second?
Moff Obor Quesh felt in the mood to complain. Then again, he nearly always did. Things were never quite perfect: the seats were too small, there was no space to put carry-on baggage, and to top it all off, he couldn't even see the driver. There was a screen up in between the cabin and the cockpit. Well, at least Sainor was keeping silent for once. That boy really was getting spoiled these days, too big for his britches. And hadn't there been those orders straight from the top, maybe even from Lord Vader himself (though in the Empire command hierarchy and with Vader so mysterious and all, it was hard to tell)? To watch in this sector for a Rebel spy? There would be a security scan, he knew. He himself had ordered it on every vessel leaving the spaceport. Even Star Tours Ship Number B-68.
Anna Jorewen wasn't feeling too good. She'd been mildly sick all weekend, getting queasy at the worst possible moments, never straying beyond a hundred yards of a refresher in case she lost her lunch, which hadn't happened yet but who knew? It still might. She was not the most patient girl at the best of times, and this most definitely was not 'the best of times.' Her mother was getting fed up with her, she could tell. Every few minutes, Debriah Jorewen would slide a furtive glance over to Anna with a sour look on her face, as if wondering when Anna would feel sick to her stomach next and discouraging her from saying anything. Anna looked below the seat for a barf bag, but didn't find one. There didn't seem to be a refresher on Ship Number B-68, either. How long did they say this trip was going to be, anyway?
C-3PO was in a state of panic. Yes, droids could panic; he knew this only too well! He was going over the incident again and again in his memory, wondering how exactly he had ended up in the cockpit expected to drive the ship when all he was doing was fixing its binary motivator! He had been counting on those idiot pit droids to take forever with cleaning the viewport, as they usually did on such simple tasks, but the droid that was really supposed to be up here had informed them of the automated viewport washer, solving the issue. And now the ship was in an automated takeoff sequence, and Threepio had no idea why or how or how to stop it, nor had he any idea why Artoo was not doing something to abort the sequence, get him back on the ground and out of there!
Hera Syndulla sat in the back row, watching her fellow passengers as best she could without drawing attention to herself. She noticed immediately that most of them were human, but there was also a Rodian, a Cathar, a Togruta, a Wookiee, and what looked to be a pair of Nautolan twins. The Imperial official in the front row would be her biggest issue. Not to mention the human who looked like a bounty hunter, three seats to her left. Most of these people couldn't care less where she was going, what she was doing, who she worked for. If she played it right, they'd never know the answers to any of those three questions, especially the last. After all, what they didn't know couldn't hurt them, and it was people like these whose rights Hera had sworn to win back. What did it matter that she was a Rebel? She'd be long gone, well away from Ship Number B-68, before anyone could find her out.
A/N: This is, again, only a first chapter. The fragmentation of viewpoints and paragraphs is meant to keep it from boring everyone to death, which much of my writing is wont to do. Yes, I borrowed Artoo, Threepio, and Hera, but the other characters are my own invention. Please read and review, and don't be afraid to let me know if it seems like I have been waylaid by an overzealous bounty hunter for lack of updates!