A/N: Thanks to my two reviewers. I hope you enjoy the chapter.
Friday, 2:47pm; Unknown Place.
The ship was jostling about them, a consistent humming as it travelled through hyperspace. Anakin looked with apprehension around at the ship walls, noting that they did not look stable. At all. If he was going to steal a ship, it wouldn't be this one.
After a lot of deliberation, the two slavers had finally decided that it was best to send him into manual work. Anakin had needed to hide the fact his leg was broken to convince them, but in the end they'd figured that it was the only thing he could do. Anakin knew that it was a lot easier to escape as just one slave in hundreds, rather than a specialised one. There was safety in numbers, it was a lot easier to hide amongst the others. It would give him space to plan, as he wouldn't have the permanent eye of his owners on him.
Anakin hated that word. 'Owners.' As if he wasn't a person, but a tool. It was degrading, and he'd thought that he'd never have to hear it again, at least not against himself. Yet here he was, being shipped off to some middle-class planet. He'd overheard that it was in the Middle Rim, but he hadn't heard the planet's name. That meant, if he did manage to somehow escape and find a ship, he'd be flying blind. He couldn't be certain that the ship would have a navigator.
Stop getting ahead of yourself. He berated himself internally. He stopped wondering about different futures and focused on his current situation.
His hands were chained above his head, meaning he couldn't move in any direction without twisting them. He was sitting on a longish silver bench, opposite an identical bench. There were three other people in the room, one supervisor and two other slaves. From the looks of them, they'd been doing this for a while. They looked worn out and exhausted. Anakin knew from experience that, once you started to get old or tired, you spent the rest of your life being shipped around. He was always worried that it would happen to his mother, but thankfully Watto kept her on, just with less physical work.
Anakin wished that he could help the two sleeping people across from him, but he knew deep down that there wasn't any way he would be able to do it. He was barely scraping by himself. Hiding his injuries was taking it's toll. He probably looked just as bad as they did. But if he had one slip, one wince, then it might all be over. No one wants an injured slave, the work would be done slower. Anakin was terrified to even fall asleep, anyone might notice the fact he had bruises lining his body and gashes down his arm. So he forced himself to stay awake. He'd been fine for the first few hours, but when it went from late night to around early morning (by Anakin's guess), his eyes started drooping, and several times he started awake.
There was nothing in the room that he could use as a weapon, it was completely bare. Besides, there were at least two other slavers on the ship, Anakin had seen them board. Without help he wouldn't be able to take them down, even with the two others it would be a struggle. And, with them all injured, it was near impossible. But Anakin hoped that once they made it to wherever they were going he'd be able to sneak out. Then find a ship. Then fly away.
He'd need to make it to Coruscant. Or Naboo, depending on which was closer. Naboo was in the Middle Rim, but Anakin wasn't sure what side of it he was. If he was closer to Naboo he might be able to contact Obi-Wan. Even though they hadn't seen each other in years, Padmé seemed like the kind of person to save he contacts. She would hopefully be able to contact Obi-Wan directly. And if not, she would be able to get him back to the Temple.
His heart leapt when he realised that she'd be about twenty two, maybe even twenty three. And she was no longer a queen, but a senator. So much had changed since they had last met. And Anakin wasn't just a kid anymore. He was pretty sure that it had been about a week since he'd been kidnapped. He wasn't completely sure, but he'd picked up some fragments of conversation about the weekend coming up. But that meant that he'd turned eighteen. Which made him, legally, an adult.
He didn't really feel different, not that he expected to. Maybe a bit more confident, despite the fact he was severely injured and in the process of being shipped off to be a slave on some random planet.
There was a jolt, and Anakin's thoughts were interrupted. The ship wobbled, then the humming stopped. They'd come out of hyperspace. Anakin bit his lip as it jerked his arms. The two people across from him awoke, both looking around deliriously. Anakin stopped himself reassuring them, knowing it would draw the attention of the slavers. It helped that he was busy trying not to moan at the pain in his arms. They'd been flying for hours, and his arms had been twisted above him for the whole time.
They waited another twenty minutes before anything happened. Then Anakin heard the familiar shudder which indicated they were entering an atmosphere. The man who had been watching them, his eyes glazed over with boredom, walked out of the room. Anakin took the small chance he'd been given, and looked around freely. He stood, wincing at the way his arms were tugged behind his back. But it meant that he was closer to the place they were locked to, and he could see the mechanics in greater detail.
He figured that if he had a screwdriver, or something like a knife to wedge it open, he would've been able to get out quite easily. The problem was, he had nothing on him. He looked at the other people across from him to see if they had anything he could use, but, as he'd expected, they had obviously had everything taken off of them when they'd boarded. Or they might not have had anything in the first place. He was about to see if he could jerk the bonds out of the socket when one of the people across from him caught his eye.
There was a man there, older than Anakin but didn't look more than thirty. The person who had caught his eye, an older woman, was making quick motions with her hand. Anakin couldn't decipher them at first, but eventually realised she was telling him to sit back down. His instincts told him to listen to her, even though he had no reason to, so he quickly complied. Just in time, as the slaver, the one that Marius had spoken to, walked back in. Anakin tried to act casual, or as casual as you could be when chained to a wall. The woman sat back with a sigh of relief. Anakin made a note that he should try to thank her later. If he ever saw her again. The slaver now stood in the center of the small room and clapped his hands together. Anakin refrained from scowling at his cheery attitude.
"Since this is a relatively small shipment, you're all going to the same person." He said. "Make sure you behave, listen to your owners. Y'all know the drill. Apart from you, kid. You're new."
Anakin glared at him. He had no idea how much Anakin had had to endure. Anakin had spent half his life as a slave. He definitely 'knew the drill'.
The woman looked across at him pityingly. The man had closed his eyes, and it looked like he had fallen asleep on her shoulder. However Anakin could tell by his fast breathing that he was awake. Listening in.
One of the two people beside the man speaking walked towards Anakin. He forced himself not to react, and sat there, stony faced, as his cuffs were deactivated. He rubbed his sore wrists, letting some of the blood flow back into his arms. He didn't have time to relax though, as his arm was gripped tightly. His bad arm. He grit his teeth, feeling the world spin around him. The man forced Anakin to his feet, and Anakin shut his eyes to hide the fact that they were filling with tears. Once he was certain that he wouldn't fall if unsupported, he shook off the hands. Standing upright, he was motioned towards the door. The two other people were also dragged up, then pushed behind Anakin.
The ship was small, so it took them less than half a minute to reach the exit ramp. It lowered painstakingly slow, Anakin waiting apprehensively to see what the odds were of escaping. Some people were security freaks, desperate to keep slaves in. Some people relied on the harsh environment to keep people back. Anakin hoped it would be the latter, while he was in no shape to fight he was still able to survive pretty well in the wild. He hoped. The Jedi had taught survival classes do most environments, some in more detail than others.
Walking down the ramp, he felt himself be blasted by a wave of heat. It was boiling hot, but wet as well, moisture hung heavily in the air. Anakin, for the first time since it had happened, was thankful that Marius had taken away his outer robe. With it he would've been overheating, instead he was just slightly uncomfortable. The woman and man next to him shifted uncomfortably, dressed for colder weather.
Anakin felt a push on his back and he stumbled forward. Looking surreptitiously around, he couldn't see any major structures. Nothing where anyone who needed slaves would live.
But, once they had walked for an unpleasant half hour where Anakin's tunic stuck to his back and he started to sweat, desperate for a drink, a building emerged from between the trees. The land around it was as tropical as the rest of the planet seemed, huge trees with green and pink leaves, animals creating a huge cacophony of noise from further out in the jungle. The building was no n a small clearing, a large stone structure. Anakin wouldn't have called it a palace, though it was close. More like a big house. 'Mansion' seemed pretty fitting. It was old, moss climbing up the walls and clinging to the stone. As they rounded another corner Anakin saw why they'd positioned it so. Though it had been seemingly in the middle of the jungle, it was in fact near a huge open lake. The water stretched far into the distance.
Anakin had been so busy admiring the mass of water he failed to notice that they were now heading downhill. He stumbled and almost fell onto the dusty ground. But a hand reached out and grabbed his elbow. He stopped falling, and grabbed onto a tree.
Falling over could get you killed. As a slave, the slightest slip could make the difference between life or death. Anakin never understood why. It was a human thing, natural. Not everyone was perfect on their feet. But most people thought it was unacceptable to fall over. It had become almost a tradition, it was bad luck to have a slave fall over in the owner's presence. Anakin had seen people shot on sight, just because they'd tripped.
He held his breath, waiting for it to be noticed. But nothing happened, and when he looked up he saw the slavers were too deep in their conversation to pick it up. He sighed in relief. The hand moved from his elbow, and he turned and saw the woman glance around too. She turned back, relieved that they hadn't been spotted. Smiling at Anakin briefly, she tugged him back onto the path. He followed, still dazed at his brush with death. If, after all he had endured in his life, he died from tripping, he would be very annoyed with himself.
They continued along the path, the building growing closer and closer. Anakin was careful to look where he was going, treading carefully over the rocks that littered the ground. By the time they'd almost reached the main entrance he was lagging behind, his leg protesting as he took another few steps. He was drenched in sweat, but his mouth was as dry as a bone. Everywhere ached, but he made sure to keep his guard up. He didn't want to get caught this late into the game.
The other man was also struggling to keep up, and Anakin wasn't sure how far he'd be able to go. He didn't seem injured on the outside, but, as Anakin knew himself, it wasn't too hard to cover them up. The main problem was acting like you weren't injured. The pain sometimes was unbearable, and you couldn't make a peep. You had to sit silently.
Although it pained him to do so, Anakin knew that if he was seen helping the man they might both get into trouble. But his hands were itching to reach out and support him, even though he was taller and probably heavier than Anakin. To avoid subconsciously reaching out, Anakin pulled ahead, walking quickly. He soon reached the rest of the group, who had been waiting impatiently for them to catch up. One of the slavers grabbed him and pushed him towards a rock where the woman was sitting, a blaster pointed in her general direction. Anakin took a seat next to her, letting his aching kegs rest. They'd been walking far too long for Anakin's leg. He was certain that any healing it had got time for had all been eradicated the second Marius and him had run from the explosion.
When the man caught up he too was made to sit on the rock. The three of them watched as the slavers took a drink. They weren't offered any, not that Anakin expected them too. Slave conditions apparently hadn't changed at all since he was a slave. He shut his eyes and lowered his head onto his knees. The sun was shining down on them, little cloud to cover it. It was boiling where they were sitting, and he shifted in his tunic. It was torture, being able to see the lake so close, yet knowing that it might as well be in another galaxy.
Once they had been pulled to their feet and clambered on for another two minutes, they finally made it to a gate. It was huge, iron-clad steel. But they didn't walk through, and went around the side and along the wall. The shrubbery became more dense, leafy fingers grabbing Anakin's legs as they forced their way through.
The pain in his leg grew steadily worse. Even though Marius had set it, so it was unlikely it would heal wrong, Anakin knew that if he didn't stop moving so much soon, it might become a permanent problem. He had heard of people who had been unable to walk ever again, or had lost the feeling in their legs completely. When he saw a door, the slavers entering a key code combination which one of them read off a com, he breathed a quick sigh of relief. They walked through, entering not into a courtyard like Anakin thought they would, but a low ceilinged room.
There were two other people in the room, one human man, who was writing behind a desk, and a female of a species Anakin didn't know. She looked up at them, and Anakin caught the glimpse of something metal on her neck. She then averted her eyes and went back to cleaning. Anakin looked up at the man behind the desk with a renewed hatred. Anyone who could sit peacefully as slaves did all the work immediately went down in Anakin's mind as someone who he would come back to later.
"Remulous, you're early." He said, glancing over at them.
"We had one no-show. It's just these three." The main slaver (Remulous apparently) said. Anakin looked on nervously at the buyer's look of disdain. If they got rejected, what would happen to him? Or the other two?
"Indeed. I'm not sure if my master would be happy with the change of -"
"I'll give you half price. But no refunds."
Anakin listened to the conversation interestedly. So the man wasn't the buyer, but worked for the buyer. He definitely wasn't a slave. Assistant maybe? And there were meant to be four of them, but someone hadn't turned up. That explained things, most shipments had at least five people, the price for fuel was to high to make a profit if slaves were shipped in small groups or pairs.
"Fine. Leave them here." The assistant said. Remulous dipped his hat, then moved out the room. His lackeys followed, leaving Anakin and the two others alone with the man and the slave.
The man sat back with a sigh, peering at them.
"Names and ages." He asked. Anakin's mind pulled a blank. He didn't know if he should give his real name and age or...
"Mana Zapal. Sixty seven. This is Shoan," the woman said, motioning at the man, "and this is Varlo." She continued, pointing to Anakin. "Shoan is twenty five, Varlo is sixteen."
Anakin gave her a confused glance. She gave a surreptitious shake of her head, telling him to stay silent. Anakin didn't see what she could do that might harm him any way, so he shut his mouth and stayed silent.
The man nodded absentmindedly, noting it down.
"And what have you been assigned to?" He inquired. Anakin opened his mouth to tell him he'd been given manual work, but the woman got there first, her voice a bit rushed.
"All of us are in domestic work."
The man looked up suspiciously, taking in Anakin's tall stature, and the other man's strong-looking figure. Anakin struggled not to gulp under his gaze.
"Okay..." He said, writing it down. For a moment it looked as if he was going to pursue it further. But then he sighed and motioned for them to follow him.
Anakin went to follow down the corridor, but the woman grabbed his arm before he could. She pulled him down to her small height, so he had to stoop.
"Listen to me sweetie. Follow what I do. Remember your name and details. Trust me, slavery is no joke." She whispered quickly. Anakin couldn't bring himself to tell her he already knew how it worked. "I'll try to make sure you get a good job, but make sure you keep those injuries hidden."
Anakin's mouth fell open. How did she...?
He didn't have time to ask. She walked away after the man and the assistant. Anakin followed hurriedly, not wanting to be left behind.
A/N: The next chapter will almost definitely be late. I was super busy this week, so didn't have time to write. Feel free to leave a review if you enjoyed.