This is a wee bit darker piece, still set in that 19 year gap established in The Tragedy of Hope. Focusing on Zelina, and it makes a handful of time jumps as well, so just keep that in mind. The exact time after Zelina and Luke arrive on Tatooine this is established in is supposed to be ambiguous (Partially cause I couldn't decide on anything other than the first five years or so since they arrived). I also have slipped in the introduction of a new character, take note of them.

Please Review, and as always-

Enjoy!

A haze seemed to be settled over the room, blanketing the cantina as much as the cacophony of conversation humming all at once. There wasn't much room to move around without bumping into anyone during the rush hour, but her agility and some experience weaving through these crowds helped her navigate the space. If no one interfered, she could easily and quickly make it to each table to deliver drinks and the occasional plate of food—though really if you were in a cantina, you were there to drink or find a shady job.

Zelina held the platter of drinks high above her head, sidestepping the Dug jumping around in anger as he lost another round of Sabacc and curving her body away from the waving hand of a disgruntled Trandoshan. After successfully making it to the crowded table in the corner that her platter of drinks was meant for, Zelina set each drink down in front of the customer it belonged to. She was quick to turn back around since there were plenty of other drinks she had to disperse through the cantina, already mapping out her best route in her mind as she took a step in the right direction.

A rough hand finding itself where it should not have been had Zelina quickly whipping around to catch the offender, who had the audacity to grab at her shirt as she turned. The fabric ripped in the back, and Zelina stepped closer on instinct to keep it from shredding into nothing.

"C'mon, sweetie, stay a while, keep us company!" the Corellian man offered, trying to pull her closer.

Now that she was reoriented and knew who had grabbed her, Zelina grabbed his wrist and twisted, pulling a vibroblade with the other hand and pressing it under his chin. The man froze, trying to look down at the blade just barely being restrained from cutting into him.

"You ever try to touch me again, I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat. Got it?" she growled.

The man nodded and she shoved him back, putting the vibroblade back where it had been hidden by her waist. Her shirt was ripped open in the back, and as she quickly retreated from the table, she felt the damage, trying to see if it was salvageable. She could feel eyes on her, especially on the old whipping scars, and found herself struggling to clamp down on the emotions that tried to well to the front of her mind.

Great. As if she didn't struggle enough with the creeps at the cantina without it being known she used to be a slave. Now it was going to spread like wildfire, and the harassment would probably increase tenfold. It would help if the owner, Reggin, had some semblance of control over this place, but he didn't. There could be a murder, an assault, or even an exchange for a slave right in front of him and the man wouldn't do anything—she'd even seen some of those happen in the cantina. It was more lawless in the cantina than it was in the streets at night.

Force forbid she ever need to have Luke with her at work. So far she'd been lucky, and the Lars' had always been able to take care of him while she worked. They might have gone out of their way to make sure they could because of where she worked, though. One day she wouldn't be so fortunate, and she'd have to keep him on her, though.

That was not a day she was looking forward to. Something had to be done if she was going to have to tote Luke around with her while she worked. Right now, the thought made her sick.

"Zel! What the hell are you doing? Hurry up and get these drinks out!" Reggin called from the counter when he spotted Zelina headed in the other direction. She worked hard to keep a scowl from crossing her face.

"One moment, sir, I just have to make sure I stay clothed."

"Why bother? You might make more tips topless," Reggin suggested with a smirk.

Zelina had to swallow the bile that bubbled up at the comment, saying nothing as she continued towards the refresher in the back of the cantina.

Slobbering Gundark…

Once inside, Zelina wasted no time in pulling off the shirt, examining the tear. After looking at it for a few moments, she ripped the fabric further, using the filthy mirror as a guide as she carefully manipulated and tied the strips into a homemade wrapped crop top. On the upside, it would be a little cooler to wear and she wouldn't get so hot. On the downside, it exposed more, but it was the best she could do for now. She'd just have to suffer through it today.

"Bunch of panting beasts, aren't they?"

Zelina looked up in surprise to see a Trianii woman standing by the door sizing her up, arms crossed, a utility belt slung across her waist, ears twitching subtly as the feline woman watched her. Her eyes were a startling crystalline clear, so much so Zelina couldn't initially tell she had heterochromia, since the green eye was so close to the blue in hue. Her fur was dominantly black with the occasional streak of chocolate brown. There was a nasty looking blade strategically shown on her belt, and a battle-worn blaster within close reach of her hand, likely to ward of similar trouble to what Zelina had just encountered.

Zelina looked back into the mirror, fixing her shirt. "I wouldn't have expected to see a Trianii on Tatooine, given the heat."

"What can I say, you go where there's a job. It's the only reason I can think of a woman like you working in a place like this," the Trianii replied. Zelina turned her attention back to the woman, suspicious of what she meant by the latter statement. "You've been places if you can pull a knife on a man that fast with that much precision. What are you doing working in a slum like this instead of bounty hunting or some kind of mercenary work?"

Zelina relaxed a hair when the term Jedi wasn't thrown in the mix, turning back to her reflection to make sure everything was covered. "Doing the best with what I've got. Can't afford to leave the planet a lot, so here I am."

Zelina headed towards the door, pausing to look back at the Trianii woman. "Besides, there's real potential here if you're willing to wait for it."

*Two Years Later*

"Get down!"

Zelina barely had time to duck her head at Ameenah's call before the blaster shots went off, piercing through the cantina's interior. She instinctively reached for a lightsaber that wasn't there, too far from the main fight to do anything about it. Instead, she kept low, looking about as the other patrons sought cover. She saw Reggin barely make it below the counter before several stray bolts flew through the general area he'd been standing.

The firefight was quick, over almost as quickly as it started, though with plenty of blaster fire to make up for the shortness of the fight's duration. When Zelina heard no more blaster fire for several long beats, she dared to raise her head above the table she'd taken refuge behind.

There were a few bodies in the area, casualties of the sudden fight, and she couldn't pin down who was responsible because they seemed to have already ducked out.

Once it was clear that the fight was over, everyone inside the cantina gradually returned to normal, some even stepping over the bodies as they went about their daily business.

Ameenah passed by Zelina, the Trianii woman setting about taking care of the bodies before Reggin could say anything.

Apparently what Zelina had said in the bathroom that one day made her curious, because the Trianii woman had been around the cantina far more often ever since. Reggin wasn't complaining, because Ameenah lent a hand here and there—when she felt like it. Ameenah wasn't a big fan of Reggin either.

Thank the Force this hadn't been one of the days she'd needed to bring Luke to work…

Within minutes, the previous buzz of the cantina was back to what it had been before, Ameenah had gotten rid of the bodies, and Reggin was right back to serving the counter and barking at her to get the drinks out.

It made her sick.

"Zel, what are you doing standing around, get back to work! I'll start floggin' you if I need to."

Zelina visibly bristled at the statement. "I'm your employee, Reggin, not your slave. Besides, I'd be more worried about contingency plans with how dangerous this place can be."

Reggin paused with a half-closed bottle of cheap whiskey in hand. "What are babbling on about?"

Taking her platter over to the counter so he could fill it with the next order, Zelina looked at him with a cool expression. "I'm saying with how rough things get around here, you might want to think about making plans for the cantina if anything ever happens to you."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, it's common sense—I saw several of those blasts go right through where you were standing, you barely ducked in time. Anyone with a brain would have a plan for the worst."

"Nothing is gonna happen to me. Just worry about doing your job. Schutta."

"E chu ta," Zelina mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" Reggin asked sharply.

Zelina looked up, locking eyes with Reggin. "I think you should think about who you should give ownership of the cantina to if something ever happens to you."

Reggin paused, meeting her gaze. Before he could speak, Zelina interrupted him. "But take your time thinking about it, too. This isn't a decision that should be rushed. Though you should tell me when you decide—I'm curious who you'll pick."

While Reggin sat blankly at the counter for a few moments, Zelina gathered the drinks for the next order and arranged them on the platter. She walked away as he slowly started to go back to what he'd been doing, but with a slightly more absentminded air. Ameenah, who'd just returned, was watching Zelina curiously, but Zelina gave her no reaction, and simply went back to doing her job.

*Four Months Later*

Closing time. Zelina's favorite part of working at the Cantina, because it meant she finally got to escape this slum. All the grabby sleemos of customers were gone, and all she had to deal with was Reggin's repeatedly unsuccessful…advances. Once close was done, she'd be able to get back to the Lars home with Luke.

Soon she'd have enough credits they'd have their own place. She already had the home picked out, she just needed to take care of the financial side now.

She still had to deal with her job, but that couldn't be helped right now. All she could do was keep her patience sustained on that end.

Speaking of Reggin and her terrible job…

Reggin approached as Zelina turned stools up onto freshly wiped down tables, datapad in hand. As soon as she saw him coming, she straightened and turned to face him, tense and on edge.

"Reggin," she said stiffly.

"Listen, Zel…I've been thinking about what you said about how I should probably plan for the worst with how rough this place can be, and…well, I got all the paperwork done. I just need a signature."

Zelina appraised him quickly, trying not to think of what equally undesirable character Reggin was thinking of handing the cantina over to if something ever happened to him. "Who'd you choose?"

"I was going to have an old gambling buddy of mine take over—"

"But you decided I'd be better suited for the job," Zelina interjected before he could finish, locking gazes with him once more.

Reggin stood still for a moment, as if processing what she was saying. "I decided you'd be better suited for the job."

Zelina gave Reggin a false smile, taking the datapad from him. "I guess I'll be signing this, then." Once she'd signed everywhere she needed to, she handed the datapad back to Reggin. "Go ahead and send it, and don't worry about it now that it's done."

While Reggin turned his attention to the datapad, Zelina let him be, continuing to close up shop with the goal of getting out of this hellhole as soon as possible.

At least things were starting to look up.

*One Year Later*

Ameenah wasn't there, so when the fight broke out, Zelina had no visible warning. She did feel the zap of warning from the Force go down her spine, which prompted her to jump behind a pillar right before the blaster fire erupted around them. Once more, the fight was quick, over as quickly as it started. Zelina held her position until the firing stopped, then carefully poked her head out from around the pillar to assess the damage.

There was more destroyed cups and liquor bottles behind the counter, fresh scorch marks on the wall, a few bodies…

Reggin hadn't raised his head from behind the counter.

As the patron's started to mull about, Zelina went over to the counter to see if Reggin was simply hiding longer than usual to be safe.

When she leaned over the edge of the counter, it was to see Reggin laying haphazardly on the ground, unmoving, with a charred hole in his chest showing her what had happened when she wasn't looking.

Zelina held still for a few moments, processing what had happened, what that entailed, and what she needed to do now.

Once she'd figured all of that out, Zelina grabbed the blaster Reggin kept behind the counter, climbed up on top of the bar, and hid the blaster, clearing her throat and shouting over the noise of the cantina to make sure everyone could hear.

"All right, we're closed! Everyone that's received their drinks and paid, out. Everyone that still needs to pay or get their drinks, come see me and I'll get you settled."

"A slave broad like you ain't gonna make me leave! I'll leave when I want to," one of the more drunken patrons spat, waving his blaster at her.

Zelina pulled out her blaster and fired before the drunk even had the chance to react with so much as a scream. Zelina allowed all the other armed patrons a moment to see he wasn't going to be getting back up before she spoke again.

"Anyone else?" she challenged, attuning her senses specifically to pick up any possible threats.

There was a grumble of protest, but no one tried waving a blaster in her face or threatening her in any way. Most of the people who had been crowded into the cantina left, and while Zelina suspected some of those who left did so without paying. She was too busy trying to take control of the situation to care—today.

Reggin was dead, and she was now in charge of the cantina. She needed to lock down the cantina, take care of the bodies, get her newfound ownership well-established and cemented.

And she needed to do a serious overhaul of the state of the cantina now that she was going to be running things.

It took longer than she would have liked, but she eventually got everyone out of the cantina and locked the doors, leaving her with…

A handful of bodies that included a dead boss and newfound cantina ownership.

She needed to get to work.

*One Week Later*

"I'm sorry, I'd just…like some clarification. What part of all this has you so confused? Cause Reggin is dead, He turned in all the paperwork with my signature over a year ago…"

Tatooine authorities—if they could even be considered that, considering just how lawless Tatooine really was—sat across from Zelina at a table inside the still closed cantina. She was almost done getting the cantina cleaned up to the point she wanted it, with a few boxes of alcohol shipments sitting on the bar counter. She was doing her best to muffle the annoyance that was stirring inside her, but her attitude kept rising as a testament to the fact she did not appreciate the interrogation.

"We just find the circumstances surrounding your boss's death and your acquirement of the cantina to be…suspicious. As do others," said the one on the left, a stout man with long, lifeless black hair.

"What about all of this is suspicious?" Zelina asked incredulously.

"Well, we've heard Reggin publicly was not a fan of yours, which already makes his wish that you take over the cantina strange. Though the rather sudden thought he had to will someone the ownership of the cantina when he hadn't for years beforehand, as well as the fact he dies not long after this thought suddenly occurred to him…that's rather suspicious too."

Zelina rolled her eyes and sat back, folding her arms across her chest. "He almost got shot in a bar brawl a couple years or so back. I suggested he might want to think of the what if in case one of these days those blaster bolts didn't miss. It's common sense to have a backup plan when you own a cantina in these parts."

"And the fact that an ex slave girl who comes from nothing was the beneficiary is just a happy coincidence?" the other cut in, a bulky, muddy brown haired man.

Zelina didn't bother to hide her expression twitching towards a distasteful snarl at the clear discrimination, but she schooled her expression once more in a relatively quick space of time. Long enough for them to see it, but quick enough she could at least be given credit for appearing to try to control that reaction.

"What can I say, I was actually his favorite. He came onto me quite a few times after hours hoping to get something from me. Guess there was an upside to that unpleasantness after all," Zelina muttered.

"Doesn't make much sense to make someone you wish was your personal dancer next in line for ownership of your establishment," Bulky said. She was really starting to dislike this guy.

"Listen, I don't know what was going through Reggin's head. I just know he made me owner, I'm owner, and now I'm doing my best to keep the cantina going. I'm not going to complain, other than I wish I knew a bit more about running a business before I got put in charge," Zelina said with a shrug. "Does it really matter who's running the joint as long as people are still getting their drinks?"

"If foul play is involved—"

"Foul play is almost always involved—its Tatooine. In this case, you're looking in the wrong place. Reggin didn't have any kind of rules in this place, a brawl broke out with blasters almost weekly. It was bound to happen at some point. If you're looking to blame anyone for foul play, find the person who shot him."

"Did you hire someone to kill your boss so you could take over the cantina?"

"There it is," Zelina murmured, shaking her head. "No, I did not. I've been a waitress at a cantina on this dustball of a planet to try and sustain two people, do you really think I've got the money to hire a mercenary? Besides, if I was going to kill him to take over the cantina, I would have done it a lot sooner than now—I could have used the better income months ago when my boy was sick."

The two shared a glance, one nodding while the other shrugged. Lifeless spoke after a few moments of their silent communication.

"We'll be conducting our investigation to see if there's any truth to these claims—"

"All right," Zelina said, standing up sharply. "Just because I was a slave when I was very young does not mean that I had to cook up some convoluted plan to get this far, and you can grasp at straws all you want, but you're not going to put me in jail for being a successful former slave, okay? Go do your investigation, I'll be running my business."

Once her short speech was finished, Zelina shoved her chair back into its place and left the two investigators alone, turning back to what she had been doing before they showed up. As she pulled the alcohol from the boxes and put them on her desired places on the new shelves behind the cantina bar, she let her mind wander just briefly, keeping her expression controlled so it didn't reflect her thoughts.

It wouldn't be long now before she could finally afford that real home for her and Luke, now.

She was going to implement some hard rules to make this place not so dangerous, less of a sleazy danger towards herself and other women, but still prosperous.

She was going to have to make sure to kick an advance in a wire transfer. They'd be smart enough to know it was for services well rendered and a reminder to stay quiet.

Maybe if she offered Ameenah a well-paying job as a bouncer of sorts for the cantina and kept it relatively cool, the Trianii woman would be willing to stick around and help out.

Now she'd just have to remind herself the kind of person Reggin had been, the state of the cantina while it was under Reggin and how dangerous it had been, and her usual mantra of whatever it takes to take care of Luke.