Chapter two: bindings

Ryloth, three days after the sacking of coruscant

It was dark when they came. The door to Dia's room burst open and her father entered, followed by Dia's older brother, Tol.

"Get up, Dia!" her father said, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

"What's going on, daddy?" the young Twi'lek asked, rolling out of bed and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She could hear loud noises coming from the other side of the house.

"Men have come here, little one…" Her father knelt and looked her in the eye. "Slavers." He almost spat the word.

"They're raiding the village…" Tol spoke in an emotionless monotone.

Dia's father crouched below the room's lone window and peered through the blinds, swearing under his breath. "There are more of them in the streets.

"What are we-". Dia's words were cut short by the sound of a loud CRACK!

"Jackpot." The speaker was human, though that could be argued against, based on the many disfiguring scars the man sported on his wide face. He was tall, and all muscle, and currently holding a scattergun to Tol's back. "Red-skinned ones sell for a pretty penny. 'Specially with the Imperials, these days."

For a moment, it looked to Dia as if her father was about to make some sort of move against the slaver, though he appeared to think better of it. "Why are you doing this to us?" There was no fear in his voice, though it was clear he was afraid.

"Credits, mostly." The slaver took another step forward, pressing the barrel of the scattergun into the back of Tol's neck, just below the base of his skull. "And before you say it, no, you can't bribe us. You and your kids are worth a lot more than you can afford." The man chuckled, as if amused by the pleading stares of the two Twi'leks facing him.

He nodded at Dia and gestured with the scattergun for her to stand beside her brother. "Turn." he told Tol, the mirth gone from his voice.

Dia stayed where she was. Looking at her father, she saw that his eyes were fixed on her. "Y-yes sir…" The words came as barely more than air. Slowly the child fell in next to her brother. She glanced up at him, as if looking for support, and she finally noticed the twin veins of blood running down his chin. He'd bitten his lip, as if to keep himself from talking.

The slaver pressed the barrel of the scattergun hard into Tol's chin now, the adolescent boy standing only a foot shorter than him. "Got something to say, slave?"

Tol spat a mouthful of blood at the slaver. "Jump in a sarlaac pit, poodoo."

Before Dia could blink, Tol was on the floor, the slaver having struck him with the butt of the rifle. She watched in horror as he went down, clutching his head and struggling to stand back up, but before he could get to his knees, the slaver's boot caught him hard between the shoulders, knocking him flat.

"Tol!" Dia's father shouted and rushed to his son's side.

Boom!

It seemed to happen in slow motion. The slaver hadn't expected Dia's father to move, and had reacted with force. The aging Twi'lek sprung forward, maybe in an attempt to cover Tol from any further beating, or perhaps he'd decided to attack the slaver. Either way, Dia didn't know.

The slaver had turned the scattergun and fired a single blast, catching the man in the chest and flinging him back against the wall. He flopped to the floor in a heap, smoke rising from his chest. Dia screamed, but she couldn't hear herself over the ringing sound in her ears.

"One less slave." The slaver chuckled again.

"Papa!" Dia shouted and rushed to his side. She screamed in Ryl, a plea for her father to be alive, maybe. Of course, the man reeked of burnt flesh, and some part of Dia knew he was dead. Tol was silent, still pinned under the slaver's boot. It didn't take long for it to register that she had suddenly become alone in a room with a man who had just proven that he wasn't afraid of taking a life.

"On your feet, little girl." The slaver finally lifted his foot off of Tol's back. The boy didn't move.

Dia stood, keeping her eyes on her brother, and approached the slaver, hands raised in defeat. "Just, please," she began, lips trembling. "Don't hurt him anymore."

"You're not in any position to make requests, little lady." To illustrate his point, the slaver stomped hard on Tol's left lekku, finally eliciting a response from the young male, in the form of a scream.

Then everything slowed down again. Dia's vision blurred, and the sound of Tol's screams filled her mind. She could feel his pain buzzing in her skull, and she let out a scream of her own. It was a primal roar, from the deepest part of her young soul. "Stop!" she shouted. "Stop hurting Tol!"

What happened next came as a surprise to the slaver, though he had less than a second to actually be surprised before he was flung back out of the room and down the entire length of the short hallway leading to the living area. He crashed into the durasteel wall with enough force to break his spine.

"Dia…" Tol sucked in a ragged breath as he got to his knees. Scanning the room for his sister, he struggled to steady his vision. "Dia…" he called again.

Dia's response came in the form of a soft thud. She lay on the floor a few feet away from him, eyes closed.

Standing on shaky legs, Tol retrieved the dead slaver's scattergun and a short knife he'd hidden in his boot before seeing any of the slaver's companions. There were two of them, and neither had appeared to have heard the commotion, which Tol would've found odd had he given it any thought. As it was, he was more concerned with getting his sister out of here alive. He hadn't seen what had happened, but he'd felt it. He'd never met a Force user, but he was sure that was what Dia had done.

The only problem with Dia's powerful display was that it had left her drained. She would be of no help to him in their escape. In fact, now he had to carry her, along with the heavy blaster rifle. This day just keeps getting worse.

Moving as quietly as he could, Tol scooped up his unconscious sister and crept through the living area, strewn with various objects that had belonged to their family. He made no move to retrieve anything as he circled to the front door, staying in the shadows. He could hear the voices of the other two slavers down an adjacent hallway. They were probably in his room now.

The scene outside was worse than he'd expected. Blasterfire filled the air, accompanied by the sounds of dozens of screams. More villagers had fought back, it seemed, and all hell had broken loose. The Twi'leks that weren't shot on site were being rounded up and carted off in dozens of dropships. Tol had never seen so many ships in his life. Keeps getting easier…

Picking a direction at random, Tol ran as fast as he could for the tree line. He'd had a little bit of experience as a hunter, and now it was time he learned how the creatures he'd hunted felt. As he neared the tree line a blaster bolt streaked over his shoulder and struck the trunk of a nearby tree.

"Get back here, Schutta!" one of the men shouted.

"Kell!" the other man shouted. "We already killed one of them! The red ones are worth too carking much to waste another! Set to stun!"

Tol breathed hard, and his muscles protested as he ran. Reaching the first row of trees, he began looking for a safe place to leave Dia while he… While he what? Killed two armed slavers?

Finding a decent sized tree a few yards into the wood, he leaned his still sleeping sister against its trunk. Sighing, he hefted the scattergun, testing its weight. He'd never fired a gun before, and he had a few serious doubts about his ability to kill. He heard leaves crunching nearby, and decided he'd find out if he could do it soon.

It happened so fast, and the darkness made it hard for Tol to see anything at all. The slaver had attempted to sneak up on the young Twi'lek, and now that he'd gotten close, he'd struck, armed with a combat knife, the slaver, this one wiry and fast, moved in to slash at Tol's face. Tol attempted to bring the scattergun to bear, but the old rifle weighed too much, and the slaver was too close for Tol to get a good shot off.

Thrusting his palm upward, the slaver took his opponent off the ground, sending his rifle off into the darkness. Tol managed to regain his footing and swung at the slaver as hard as he could, but the man was too fast, ducking under the attack and slashing at the Twi'lek's exposed underarm, but he snapped his elbow back at just the right moment, and the slaver's knife fell to the ground.

And then what felt like the surge of electricity passed through Tol's body, and he tried to scream, finding that he couldn't speak. No, he realized. He couldn't move at all. The other pursuing slaver had snuck up on him while he'd fought and gotten the better of him. He blacked out before hitting the ground.

Tol's whole body hurt. Maybe it was the stun blast he'd taken he didn't know how long ago, and maybe it was the beating he'd received when the slavers had first arrived. He didn't know, and he didn't care. All he knew was that he was currently chained to a mattress in a grey, featureless cell. All around him sat other people from his village, as well as some he'd never seen. He wondered if Ryloth had been the first stop.

In an adjacent cell, still asleep, leaning against the back wall, was Dia. At least he knew where she was. He sighed, taking comfort in that, at least. He had failed to keep her safe from the slavers. In fact, she had saved him. No two ways about it.

And the way she did it.

"So big red finally wakes up." The voice belonged to the slaver called Kell. He stood just outside the cell, arms crossed over his chest. "If it were up to me I would've shot you dead back on Ryloth. You got lucky."

Lucky?! Tol wanted to scream. He wanted to tear out the bastard's throat and feed it to a pack of kath hounds. "Yes, sir."

"You caused quite a bit of trouble trying to get away. Killed one of our boys, too." He paused, as if thinking back on the mangled corpse of his comrade. "Any idea how that kill went down?"

"My father did it. When the shockwave hit, the scattergun went off and killed him." Tol said without missing a beat. "The shock of seeing our father shot at such a close range made my sister faint."

For a moment it seemed as if Kell had been thinking about the legitimacy of Tol's story, but he simply shrugged. "Doesn't bother me either way."

"Where are you taking us?" Tol fixed his eyes on the floor.

"You're going to market, slave." A twisted grin played across his face. "On Dromund Kaas."