The meaning of
slavery
The first
time she could probably recall, she could hear whisperings, as she
felt herself touched by the first rays. Greeting them with whining
and heavy lids, she fell to the darkness of rest again, waking only
days later, with a bowl greeting her sight.
The bowl wasn't the prettiest thing in the world, but somehow, its spiral patterns on the bowl, captured and immersed her in a black sea of hurricane.
Of course, partly now that she thought back, it could have been because of her own tiredness and unwillingness to think further than rest. Still, she found herself unable to look away, contented to just stare at it for all her life.
Until someone took the bowl away. Surprised, she snarled at the owner of the hand, previously not noticing her surroundings except for herself and that pretty bowl. It was pretty.
Her eyes traveled up taking in everything she could see, absorbing in knowledge like it was the water of life.
That person's hand was thin and bony. A paling white, 'like a ghost' she thought though why she did not know. Her clothes, or perhaps it was a cloth, were ragged and tattered as it was matted with dirt and dust and a reddish paint.
'Dirty!' her inner voice said. 'Pitiful!' she told it unaware that she had said it aloud.
"Pitiful? I don't need your pity! Why you're no better than me, lower! In fact I proclaim you worse than me! And as for being dirty I could perhaps say the same for you. Look at yourself; you're in no better condition than me!"
Turning wide-eye to her clothes, she was stunned to see herself in an almost similar condition. The clothes- no! They were rags! How could she be wearing rags? She was better than the stranger. The stranger who...
Wordlessly she turned back her attention to the stranger who had talked to her. The elongated neck was a pearly white with a, a face of an alien! Eyes black like the midnight sky, it had a thin sheen of reflected light in it. She had no hair and her mouth was without the red lips.
Panting with fear and adrenaline, she whimpered and moved backwards against the known wall behind her only to bump into something.
"No." she moaned as she slowly turned backwards, to face this time a flying blue alien behind her. She fainted. Probably the best course of action. After all, had she stayed awake any longer she would have screamed out and attracted unwanted attention, and problems.
Needless to say, her life had turned interesting from then on as she coped with the pressure of having no identity of remnants of her past. Taunted for it perhaps, yet in that time of new hardship, she had been gifted with a best friend and mentor to guide her and help her survive the hardship.
Although as she looked back often enough, she was surprised to see the building of a strong friendship bond with one of the most unlikely person.
Outcast number 104, or as Shimi dubbed her, Angel.
While her memory was unavailable to her, she could apparently recall enough with past instinct to give a name such as 'Angel'. However the problem was that she, Shimi, wasn't sure what it had meant then. Only that it was something she used to claim as good.
Of course, that particular bonding had been started by the hatred each held for the other. Angel, or 104 as was her registered name, had d the start of their first meeting.
Among her species of alien were the problems of being unable to reproduce, thus the invention of cloning and the problem of defects. 104 was the hundredth and fourth in her long line of ancestors to be a deflect having a minor scratch on her back.
Really! That was the most ridiculous fact she had ever heard. A scratch was perfectly normal, even in cloning, it might not cause wide-spread damage to the new-born.
However, her parent's thought not and had sold her to the Hutts instead, being emotionally attached to raise an order of against their own creation.
Sure as rain, 104's growth wasn't affected by the scratch any bit, heck! Even her own habit-genes were the same as her species. Fussy about appearances. Yet she was like a big sister, a late sister.
"Don't you ever feel embarrassed of being out?" Shimi asked. It was only four months since she was tied to Master Watto.
Elegantly raising her eyebrow, Angel turned to regard her companion closely.
"Well, I haven't done anything wrong so no, I'm not embarrassed of going out."
"Oh but don't you feel ashamed of being a…a…a..." Shimi stumbled and stopped being unable to continue on.
"A what?"
"You know what I mean, a…" She just couldn't go on. That word tasted vile to her tongue as if forbidding her to admit something, as if to tell her that this was all a dream.
"It's nothing much anyway, so are we going to Jita's tent, or Drape's this time" Shimi diverted the subject, mentally scolding herself for even bringing up the solution.
"Shimi Skywalker!" Angel paused, spinning behind only to kneel down in front of Shimi.
"I know what you wanted to say. A slave isn't it? Yes? "
Shimi nodded.
"A slave may not be a very respectful position, nor is it a comfortable occupation. Yet no one, not even you should be ashamed of what you are. In fact, we, the slaves are actually more important than those rich bigots!"
"We?" Shimi asked curiously, one eyebrow rising steadily into her straight fringe.
"Of course, don't you believe me?"
Shimi opened her mouth to exclaim her disagreement.
"Wait, wait. Tell me first, what do we slaves do everyday?" Angel asked, her voice turning smooth and calming for when she was in the lecturing mode.
"We keep the place clean, do manual labor like fetching water, tend to the master's property…"
"Yes, and what do the 'master's' do?" she said adding lots of sacristies to the 'master'.
"They keep the money, attend to the shop customers and eat and sleep, and go out to do more important business."
"Do more important businesses? Like gambling you mean?" Angel asked this, time it was her turn to look surprised.
"You really don't remember your past or know anything about their life do you?" Angel asked.
"No, but master Watto told me it was important businesses!"
"And you like a little trusting baby believed his every word. Humph! Listen here! Watto's life involves coming into the shop every morning to make sure we do our work properly before going out to place bets on whatever race or betting field there is. Then he comes back in the afternoon for his routinely check, go out and back in the evening to count the profit gain that day before closing the shop!"
"What? But how do you know that?"
Snorting out loud, Angel gestured with her hands all around her.
"Look around you! Don't you notice your surroundings at all?"
"I do!" Shimi cried out indignantly.
"Then tell me, what do you see?"
Shimi looked and cautiously gestured with her eyes.
"There, Master Kakos and Master Rink and two others are on that table discussing about a business contract."
"You mean, those four are holding cards and playing poker with huge stacks of gold coins on the table, while chatting?"
"Wha…" Shimi started but pause of the fore mentioned conversation flew by her.
"Ready to give up cause I've my ace with me!"
"Humph! I'm no wimp, ten sterling so open up and prepare to lose! Ha!"
"But they looked like they're doing business." Shimi whispered.
"Slaves are the ones that move the world. We are the one that gives prestige to the owner, give them a higher position, and gives them profit. That's why we are better than those gambling bigots, because we are the one who work for a living and all that's binding us are those rat-curse them chips! So remember Shimi, never be ashamed of being a slave."
"Never be ashamed of being a slave." She recited with Angel, as the wind of the past released its grip on her.
That was the last thing she ever learnt from Angel. For the next day, Watto lost Angel to a traveling trader in a game of luck. Although… she did inherit the legacy of those long hopeful words.
"It's alright to hope to be free one day. But until then, live off the knowledge that without us slaves, our master would nothing but a poor, idiotic" ... not that he isn't already, she added mentally.
A/N:
-Stretch….snap! Ahh… so comfortable…
Well readers sorry to bother you on the small details of Shimi's slavery, since I know this story is suppose to be focus on Anakin, but I promised next chapter will be back on track to Anakin's growing years. Once again, lots of thanks to beta laura, and please review!
