Chapter 4
I have been hard at work all day, but now I keep this data pad with me, hoping to make odd entries here and there in between my tasks and repairs. I have fully encrypted it so that it appears to be full of recipes and random notes, but has this record in a hidden file. I wonder if it will ever be unlocked and read.
Just now, an acquaintance and fellow slave, Krace, has come in and asked what I was doing. He is curious and generally kindly, but too nosy, I think. He is always asking what I am doing, and I will either simply tell him, or reply, "My work, as usual." This will usually send him about his business, but he was reluctant to leave today. I know he is not interested in computer memory devices, and besides, has his own work to do. I have been doing my best to avoid him – he seems a little desperate, though so much younger than I. I have promised myself I will never marry a slave. To do so would, in my eyes, forever bind me in slavery as well, and any children I may have. I will not give my master another slave child. And since no free man would ever think twice about a woman in my situation, I know the situation is hopeless. And I am not as young as most are when married. I try not to pity myself, though I do love children, and used to dream of having my own family. After twenty five years of slavery, I am slowly beginning to realize there are many things Shmi Skywalker will never be – some of them are free, married, and truly happy.
But that is not to say I have no friends. Krace, though a bit forward and silly, is a comrade, if not a confidante. The closest thing I have to a confidante is this data tablet. Pi-Lippa nearly is, but the fact that she is also my owner makes it a slightly uneven friendship. And then there is Sorna.
I have never told about Sorna. She is my fellow slave, and a kind soul. In years she is old enough to be my mother, in energy she is young enough to be my daughter, and in heart she tender enough to be my sister. And yet, my habits, difficult life, and natural disposition combine to make me reticent to become a true kindred spirit with her. She was bought just a few weeks ago, to be precise, the week of my entry on the day I offended my master. I assumed he was doing this in retaliation, for Sorna was favored by him for almost ten days after her purchase, an unheard of length of time to be in favor with anyone for a slave in this system.
As soon as the other slaves got over their initial dislike and jealousy of Sorna, she began to befriend nearly everyone here. I don't think a single slave here can say a word of harm about her, because she is a good worker, and pleasant to us all. The one fault she has is eagerness for gossip, which is perhaps why I cannot find it in my to tell my deepest thoughts and feelings to her, as welcoming as her friendship is. I feel sorry I don't even repay her kindness with simple honesty, but I cannot. It is not my way.
Today, she and I were engaged in cleaning Pi-Lippa's refresher when my master entered and they began to speak in low voices. I do my best not to listen whenever a conversation is held in hushed tones, but Sorna takes that as her cue, and she has very sharp ears. However, I could not help but overhear that the topic of their conversation was not a new one – the rumors of a Muun developing powers to manipulate the midichorians scattered throughout the galaxy. I am not familiar with midichlorians and the ways of the Force – my father used to speak to me of such a thing as the Force, but he died before I was old enough to begin asking questions, and so all I know is that it exists, and all I gather is that this manipulation by the race of the Sith is rumored to be an unnatural violation of it's ways. This was once again the topic of my master and mistress's mutterings, but it does not concern me, and is something I do not understand, so I keep my distance from it. The doings of the outside universes, especially those of the Sith, do not interest me in the least. Apparently some new rumor had come, as there has been terrible speculation all evening among the slaves as to what this could mean.
Sorna worked her way over to where I was polishing the edge of the refresher and whispered to me,
"Did you hear what they are saying about –"
"It has nothing to do with us," I interrupted under my breath. "We can only get into trouble being curious of such things."
"That's why it is so interesting..." smiled Sorna, as she moved back around to the other side and began busily tidying the eos-thi bottles and various trinkets sitting about. Pi-Lippa hurriedly left the room, and ordered us to do the same. Sorna scuttled out at the mistress's heels, but I found my way blocked by my master.
"Why is our little technician reduced to cleaning work once again?" he asked.
"I am not a technician, I am a slave who does what she is told," I said, trying my best to go around him, but he would not let me pass.
"Then you will do as I tell you," he said, grasping my wrist in a swift grip, and grasping the neck of my tunic with his other hand, straining it down until my collarbone was visible to his eyes, and the scar left from the implant of my slave transmitter which daily woke me and, I knew, constantly tracked my location. If any escape attempt was made, it would instantly be activated to kill me. He probed the area, causing me to wince as the chip ground against the bone beneath my skin.
"Have you been tampering with this, now that Pi-Lippa has taught you about memory chips, eh?" he said, taking his programmer from his belt and swiping it over my implant. He pressed the button of the transmitter, and pushed me away.
"Your escape radius has been reprogrammed to short distance. You had better remember your place, slave."
This entire evening Krace, Sorna, and the others have been chattering away about everything in the galaxy, but I have hardly heard them. My shoulder aches, and so does my head. I must go. Perhaps tomorrow I will write more.
