She glanced at the cheap white chrono strapped to her wrist and sighed. It was ten to four; she had two more hours until her shift was finally over, and then, she could soak in the sani-steam and relax. She would put on her new cream-colored synthsilk pajamas she'd bought yesterday, and curl up on her bunk to watch trashy holonovels on her datapad and relax. It was a Friday, so there was probably a movie on, too. She'd shut the other women in the room out for a little while and pretend she was by herself. Maybe she'd even dream about Kai again.
Mika mindlessly collected empty mugs on her tray. She wanted to practice heji tal, a form of quiet meditation once used by the Jedi, but she didn't want to do it where she might be seen by the other women. Simple meditation wasn't illegal, but she didn't want to arouse any suspicion because that might lead to questions that she wouldn't dare answer.
Asha, the other green-skinned Twi'lek slave, was behind the bar, dressed in a black fishnet outfit that was far more revealing than Mika's white one-piece. She gathered the empty mugs and set them under the bar, then began filling four more with foamy golden beer from the tap. "These go to table six," she said, setting them on Mika's tray. She flicked her lekku in a subtle pattern that said, Are you okay?
She darted a quick glance at Asha, caught off-guard by the girl's concern. "I, uh, I'm just tired," she said quietly, looking away. She carefully picked up the tray and hurried off, feeling Asha's stare following her.
She'd already had a hard enough time dealing with the other women here, whom she knew looked at her as if she were some dangerous animal. It had been a week since she'd taken out that sleemo bothering Danya, making a huge scene and a complete fool of herself in front of everyone.
Worse, she had come dangerously close to just letting go of her anger and giving in to the desire to channel the raw energy of the Force in all kinds of interesting ways. Too close. That was another reason she had wanted to perform the heji tal, and maybe gain an understanding of herself to combat that negativity and stay away from the pull of the Dark Side.
It was even worse, now, with Danya—she couldn't even look at the Togruta, let alone look in the eye. Mika had avoided her all week, and had little to say to her or anyone else. What could she say? "Uh, sorry I saved you from that sleemo because I thought you were my sister?" Ridiculous. It was humiliating to even think about.
Such irritable thoughts continued to circle in her mind as the Friday crowds began to trickle in. There were still a few tables and booths open yet, though that would change when the night shift came in. The music would be loud, the tabac smoke would be thick, and there would be drunk sleemos everywhere. Worse, Isara and her little coterie would be strutting around with their chests flaunted outrageously out of the thinnest strips of cloth to give the patrons a show with their drinks, acting like they owned the place. To them, it was a game just to see how much their assets could earn them, and how far they could twist the men around their fingers. They were happy to be "kept" as pampered slaves.
At the moment, it wasn't too bad. The patrons didn't really seem to be paying attention to her or the other women circulating around the cantina, handing out drinks and food. A few were watching the smashball Galactic Series on the viewscreens above the bar, but the jukebox was off and it was still pretty quiet. That was the way she preferred it—no one pawing at her.
Table six was the last table on the end, right next to an open area that was occasionally used as a dance floor. Farther on were several billiards tables, and to one side was a dartboard and a pair of pinball machines. Sitting at the table were two humans—one male with short blond hair and a scar across the bridge of his nose, and the other a female with long, flame-red hair pulled back in a pony tail. Next to them was a grizzled, gray-brown Wookiee, and a Rodian next to him. All of them wore scowls and looked disreputable to Mika, something not uncommon in the Blue Nebula. Nor were the blasters they all wore openly.
"You wanted the beer, right?" Mika asked, setting the mugs out.
"Keep 'em coming," the woman said, tossing a flimsiplast credit note on the tray.
Her eyes momentarily widened—it was a hundred-credit note.
"Sure thing." She returned to the bar and handed Asha the note. "Table six's tab," she explained.
"Some of this might be yours," Asha said in surprise. "Don't you want to hold onto it?"
"They won't tip." She reached over the bar and grabbed her giver ale, took a sip, then set it back down. "Besides, where would I put it?" she scoffed, hooking her thumbs under the sides of her one-piece and tugging gently. "You got the next order?"
Pursing her lips, she poured the drinks. "You sure you're okay?"
I'm fine! she signaled, snapping her lekku in annoyance. She wondered what it mattered to Asha; the girl was always following Danya around and was likely fishing for gossip for her.
Though Danya and Kai were both Togruta, Kai was younger than Mika by two years, and her pau'ri markings were different than Danya's. Kai had white "eyebrows" and circles descending down her cheeks from her eyes, and referred to them as her tear marks.
They'd grown up together, and when Mika had first been kidnapped by Trandoshan slavers, it had been Kai, who'd also been captured, that cared for her and forced her to eat. It had been Kai who'd held her hand and told her stories about her home on Shili to comfort her. After they'd escaped Nerah for the final time, it had been Kai who'd cut the palms of their left hands and the tops of their left breasts to perform the kolo tandar, the hand-to-heart Togruta blood oath of kinship; together, hands over each other's hearts, they'd solemnly swore the words that made them blood sisters, though they'd already loved each other as siblings, anyway.
It had been almost seven years since she'd last seen her, and she would pick up the search once she was free once more. And now, with Beriska's help, perhaps that freedom would come much sooner.
She finished out her shift and climbed the stairs to the apartment above, passing through the great room where several off-duty slaves lounged, reading the latest holozines or talking quietly. The holoprojector inn the center of the room was currently displaying an episode of Galactic Geographic about the life cycles of mynocks.
Danya was in the far corner at a table under a window, reading something on her datapad. She looked up and smiled tentatively at her.
Mika, to her credit, nodded at her on her way to her bunk, where she could plop down and relax. She quickly went past the billiards table and around the corner to the left, past the door to Beriska's quarters, and through the door straight ahead into the dorm, which was mercifully empty. She collapsed on her bunk and hid her face in the soft folds of her pillow with a tired sigh.
Isara and her coterie could be heard gossiping in the refresher. Her shrill laughter kindled Mika's anger. "She's been quiet all week," the human woman was saying. "Ever since her little outburst. She's a bigger drama queen than you, Mela."
Mela Fi, a petite human woman with short dark hair cut in a vampish bob, porcelain skin, and pale blue eyes, giggled. "Did you see how she'd been carrying on?"
Vema's voice came next. "How does she manage to be Beriska's favorite?" A tall, slender Zabrak with long dark hair and reddish skin, she had a sharp tongue and saucy way about her that was both irritating and annoying at once.
"Doesn't matter," Isara said. "She's up to something, and I'm going to find out what."
"How?" Lea Lyn asked. She was a short, buxom Zelosian with a curvaceous figure and black hair that had hints of green in it.
"I don't know, yet, but—" She stopped, eyes widening for a brief moment as she looked over and saw Mika standing in the door to the refresher, arms crossed and looking murderous.
Mika took the scene in. All four women stood in front of the mirror, their make-up kits spread across the counter as they applied it. First was Mela, then Isara, Vema, and Lea. Mela and Vema wore hot-pink high-cut shorts that looked painted on, high heels, and lacy bras, while Isara wore high-heel boots, skin-tight pants with a snake skin print pattern, and a lacy, sheer black bra that left the dragon tattoo on her back on full display. Lea wore a black miniskirt with platforms and a white silk bra, as well as a solid aurodium bracelet.
"Oh, don't stop on my account," she growled, her hands tightening into fists.
A Balosar slave stepped out of the sani-steam with a towel wrapped around her. No older than twenty, she had short, light brown hair and pretty green eyes. Her antennae palms twitched nervously, and she quickly fled the refresher.
Isara turned back to applying her make-up. "Um, as I was saying," she said dismissively, "I'm going to find out what the blue bantha over there is up to."
"Uh, Izzie?" Mela said, backing away as Mika, head lowered, stalked up to Isara.
She turned. "You're in my personal space—you know, that thing you are supposed to stay out of—"
Lightning fast, Mika lashed out, her right hand wrapping around the girl's throat. She pushed the woman back, bending her backwards over the counter and scattering make-up kits everywhere as Isara gurgled and clutched at Mika's hand, eyes bulging in terror.
"Ahk! Helk! Urk!" she rasped, trying to break Mika's iron grasp in vain. She kicked, but Mika was in the better position and easily deflected it.
"Let her go!" Vema whined, though no one moved to interfere.
Mela fled.
"So much for your 'friends,'" Mika hissed, cocking back her left fist to smash Isara in the face. Her anger, her rage, burned hotter and hotter.
"Mika! Don't!" Danya shouted from the door. "Please, Mika!"
Startled, her rage dissipated as she glanced at the Togruta, then back at Isara, raising her fist again. She wanted to smash the snotty schutta's nose right off her face. "Mika," came Danya's voice again, closer, but softly. "Listen to me, not them."
Her fist trembled as she sighed and her anger vanished, replaced by shame. Too close to giving in.
"Do it!" Isara gasped. "Hit me!"
"Shut up, Isara!" Danya shouted, "or I'll blacken both your eyes myself."
Trembling all over with the effort, Mika lowered her fist and leaned in close. "You're a mean, small person, Isara," she hissed. "Stay away from me." She released her and walked towards the door. "I didn't hit her," she whispered as she walked past Danya, talking more to herself than the Togruta.
Isara, coughing and gasping for air, rasped, "She did hit me! Before you got here!" She pointed at Vema and Lea. "Ask them!"
The remaining two members of the coterie looked at each other dubiously.
"You're a kiffing liar, Isara," Danya snapped, surprising Mika. "If Mika would have hit you, you'd be picking your teeth up off the floor."
Touched by Danya's defense of her, Mika's face grew hot as tears made her vision blur. Why had Danya defended her? It stirred feelings of shame and guilt within her for being unkind to the Togruta. She pushed through the crowd of slaves gathered at the door to see what was happening and went straight to Beriska's office. The door was closed, so she leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms to wait. She could hear Mela inside, clamoring away.
"She did what?!"Beriska roared. Danya came past her. "Don't worry, chicha." She went into the office.
That stupid Isara! she fumed. If that empty-headed human had been the one attacked by Mol Terrin, the infamous Zabrak pirate, she'd not be so quick to judge! She was trying not to hate Isara, but the damnable woman made it so hard not to.
The pain was still so acute, it took her breath away. She could still smell his foul body odor, and could still feel his hot, stinking breath on the back of her neck as he'd held her by her lekku, squeezing mercilessly and pulling her into the shadows at Nerah's court while laughing. It hadn't mattered that he'd died at the hands of the Gamorrean guards looting the palace after Nerah disappeared; his ghost still haunted her. She gazed up at the acoustic tile ceiling yellowed with age as her vision blurred from hot tears that streaked down her face. The memories and pain washed over her anew, after she'd so carefully shut them away.
Inside the office, Danya was defending her again. "Beriska, listen. I saw the whole thing. Isara goaded Mika. She was absolutely horrible to her."
"But Mela said—"
"She's a liar, just like her friend." "I'm not!" Mela's voice shrilled. "She hit Isara! I heard it!"
"You just said before that you saw it!" Beriska said. There was a moment of silence, like a calm before the storm. "Get upstairs, now," she said quietly. It was a dangerous tone. "Danya, you deal with Mika, but she and I are going to have a long talk. And why are you still standing here, Mela? I told you to get upstairs!"
"But—"
There was a loud smack. "Now!" she roared.
Mika was opposite of the stairs, so Mela didn't see her standing there as she ran up the stairs, holding the side of her face.
Danya came out next and quickly took Mika's hand, pulling her into the refresher. "Come on, chicha. We don't want to be around Beriska right at this moment."
"It doesn't matter," she mumbled. "Beriska is going to sell me after this." Black despair washed over her.
"Beriska may do many things, but selling you is not one of them." She dampened a washcloth with cool water and blotted her forehead. "Are you damaged? How's your arm?"
"Fine," she said in annoyance, rolling her left arm to hide the scars. "Why are you being so nice to me? You hate me just as much as the rest of them."
Danya scoffed. "Is that what you think?" She laughed. "You really don't know me, do you? Here, drink this." She handed Mika a paper cup of cold water.
She sipped it, looking away from Danya, her face darkening in shame. "I have been unkind. I am sorry."
"Don't worry over it." She ran her finger over the scars on Mika's forearm. "I think you have enough of these, chicha." Then, she noticed the tiny scar on the palm of her hand. "What is this?" she asked suspiciously.
Mika studied her for a moment. How had she so badly misread Danya? The woman was a complete mystery, and she could sense nothing through the Force from her. After a moment, though, she sighed and pulled down the left shoulder of her one-piece, baring her left breast to the woman. A vertical scar about five centimeters long ended about a centimeter above the dark blue skin of her nipple.
A smile tugged at the corner of Danya's mouth as she pulled Mika's one-piece back up. "Your sister is Togruta."
"Kai Jin." Her throat tightened with emotion. "I failed her," she admitted in a whisper. "I couldn't keep them from taking her, and now, I have to find her, and I don't even know where to start looking." She held up her left forearm. "That is why I deserve these, as reminders of my failures."
"No, you do not!" she snapped. "The kolo tandar cannot be broken. Ever. Your sister understands this."
She wiped away tears. "I'm sorry, Danya. I've been terrible to you," she stammered miserably.
"It's okay. Let's just start over. Only this time, it won't take a year to become friends."
I probably won't be here in a year, she thought sadly, but nodded. "I'd like that, I think."
"I'm off tonight. Wanna go do something together?"
A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "Sure."
Danya hopped up and sat on the counter. "We can go hang out somewhere if you want to just sit and talk." She touched her hand. "If you ever do need to talk, you can trust me."
She took a few deep breaths and forced her body to relax; the adrenaline still surged through her, though it was ebbing, thankfully. There was something just a bit off about Danya, and she'd never been able to put her finger on just what it was; yet, when she tried to sense the Togruta through the Force, it was if she was only partially there, whatever the blazes that meant. Still, the woman had just defended her twice against Isara and stood up for her in front of Beriska.
So, she nodded. "Thank you."
They left the refresher together, Danya taking her by the hand and leading the way. Beriska was waiting for them in her office and waved them in.
"No more locking yourself in the refresher."
"Um, okay," Mika answered, caught off-guard by Beriska's statement. She thought the woman was going to flay her alive.
"I've dealt with Isara and Mela. I don't want you saying anything to them. Understood?"
She nodded. "I've got nothing to say to them, anyway."
"Good. I want you to be nice to Danya, and Danya, you keep her away from those bird-brains."
"With pleasure," Danya said savagely. "I'll start tonight by taking her to the White Room Club. With your permission, of course."
"Good idea. Just don't get into any fights." She fixed Mika with a knowing stare, as if to say, No Force-stuff, girl!
"No problem! We'll be as quiet as scurriers." She escorted Mika out of the office. "This will be fun! I heard Syren is supposed to be playing there tonight."
"Really?" she asked, surprised. A new glimmick band, their music was fast and noisy, and had a hypnotic, repetitive bass line. "A lot better than Figrin D'an."
"Ugh! I can't stand jazz-wailing!"
The few girls in the great room looked a bit surprised to see Mika and Danya leaving together, though Asha waved from the theater area around the holoprojector. Isara was nowhere to be seen; nor was her coterie.
As they rounded the corner to the head into the dorm, Asha bounded over. "Hi, Mika," she said, smiling. "I'm glad you're okay."
"Um, thanks," she said, suddenly self-conscious with all the eyes watching them.
She grinned. "You should have seen what happened to Isara," she whispered conspiratorially as they walked into the dorm together, her lekku twitching with excitement. "Beriska asked her what happened, and when Izzie tried telling her that you hit her, the old lady spanked her!" she laughed. "Mela was behind Beriska, trying to warn her not to lie, but you know Isara!"
Mika found herself grinning at the image of Beriska taking Isara over her knee like she'd threatened Mika with so many times before. The one thing Beriska had no tolerance for was lying because if you lied to her, she wouldn't be able to protect you if something went down.
"Hey, why don't you come with us?" Danya suggested.
"Where are you going?" Asha asked.
"The White Room Club." They stopped in front of Danya's bunk and she unabashedly began to undress as she walked to her locker.
"Great!" Asha said excitedly. "Syren is playing tonight! And there's hot guys to dance with!"
Her bunk was next to Danya's, and she, too, began stripping down. "Let me shower first."
"I'm looking forward to sipping a comet duster and flirting with that cute human bartender."
Mika gathered her things out of the locker, laying out on her bed a cream-colored shirt with a low-cut front trimmed in tan synth fur. It had a hood built into it, which she loved. Paired with that were black durafiber pants that hugged her form without being too immodest. She added a new pair of white sneakers she'd bought the day before, and a soft, nerf-leather black belt with a CIS emblem buckle that she'd thought was ironic when she'd purchased it, considering the CIS ceased to exist when she was six years old.
She donned her robe before stripping down so no one could see her back, and the mess of scars that criss-crossed its width from her neck down. Into the hot sani-steam while trying to forget hem. They were a parting gift from Nerah; only Kai had kept her alive with a paste she'd made to keep the wounds sterile while they healed.
After she'd told Nerah what Mol Terrin had done, the woman had laughed at her. The next thing she knew, the rage and hatred boiled up in her and shifted somehow, flowing through her and out of her. It took form and slammed the vicious Farghul into the wall with a sickening crunch. She had grabbed Kai, and they fled because she was sure she'd killed Nerah.
When they were caught several days later, they learned to their horrible surprise that Nerah was, in fact, still very much alive. Mika had begged her to spare Kai, who'd only been thirteen at the time. Cursing her as a filthy Jedi, Nerah had ordered them shackled and stripped in front of the entire court, and then began lashing Kai, and then Mika. Before passing out, she promised that she would never wear another stitch of clothing for the rest of her life as a punishment to show others how she dealt with filthy Jedi scum.
She dressed hurriedly and closed the locker, leaning her head against it, trying to shake off the emotional ghosts it raised.
"Time to have some fun!" Danya said, grinning.
She nodded. "Mmm. Fun. Let's see if I remember how." She grinned back.