Chapter 2
It was black when Shmi'a opened her eyes. For a moment, confusion panicked her, and then she realized she must have fallen asleep on the cool, carved-out floor of the cellar after hanging out the wet washing in the blazing desert heat.
She felt around, trying to locate the gas lantern that usually sat in the corner of each underground room. Her hands slid over the floor's dry, feather-soft sand and up the legs of an old wooden chair. No, not this corner.
Shmi'a crawled to the other side of the room, her head down low to avoid any injury. Suddenly, her hand was resting on warm, wet sand. She jerked back in surprise and gasped.
"Who's there?" she croaked out.
A scuffling, and then a jarring metal sound.
The chains, thought Shmi'a, now remembering her afternoon's discovery. Her hands reached around, frantically searching for the hateful, metal prison her father had forged. Instead, her hands found a smooth, orb-shaped object surrounded by tin. The lantern. Shmi'a hurriedly turned the old crank on the side, and the dark corner of the cellar slowly filled with yellow light.
There, lying on its side, in a fetal position, was a twi'lek.
Shmi'a gasped. She had never before seen a twi'lek, and now she was face-to-face with one, in her own house. She may have been sheltered, but Shmi'a Vaarkpart was well-read, it was her father's rule for procuring a good husband. She knew that what lay before her was almost a mythical creature; common-place but revered for their astounding beauty. Most twi'leks were sold off as dancers or prostitutes. So why did her father want his own?
As the lantern's light increased, Shmi'a realised something that took her breath away.
"Your skin..." she croaked, startling the twi'lek. It whipped around into a protective sitting position, its' knees up, elbows straining to locked tight around them, but instead restrained straight above her head. The poor creature looked helpless.
"Please," she whispered, in a voice that was made of silk.
"It's alright," said Shmi'a softly, quick to reassure her. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not your... master. I didn't even know that you were here. I'm... I'm so sorry," she mumbled, looking up at the tight shackles. "Don't worry, I'm going to help you."
The twi'lek's sad eyes penetrated Shmi'a. She had to look away.
"Your skin," she started again, the long, slender thigh before her taking her eyes' attention away. "It's..."
"Turquoise," the twi'lek finished.
"You're a turquoise twi'lek? But... that's... that's amazing. I mean, I don't mean to be rude. I'm just.. it's... I've been very sheltered here. I'm lucky to see another human besides my father, but now, to see a twi'lek... and not just any, but..."
"Yes," it said dryly. "I'm a Rutian twi'lek."
"I'm sorry. You must think I'm a monster," Shmi'a blushed. "What's your name?" she asked, reaching up to attempt to loosen the shackles pinching the twi'lek's vivid skin.
"Havi," the twi'lek responded.
The familiarity of the name struck Shmi'a.
"Is that your, um, slave name, or your birth name?"
"It's the name I was given when I was shackled here. By what I assume, is your father."
Shmi'a shuddered. Havi was the name of her mother, who had passed away giving birth to her. She suddenly had no doubts about what her father intended to use this twi'lek slave for.
"I don't want to call you that. What's your real name?" Shmi'a asked softly, still working on the shackles.
"It's - ahh, thankyou, that feels better. My name is Kala. That's how I'm known when I speak to those from Coruscant, anyhow. Can I ask where I am?"
"Outer Tatooine, that's as much as I know," Shmi'a said apologetically, managing to release one of Kala's hands. "My father is scared that I'll run off, or ask a delivery boy to rescue me, so I'm not allowed to know our exact location."
Kala's eyes were filled with a knowing empathy. She placed her hand on Shmi'a's knee.
"I'm sorry for your unfortunate circumstance. That sounds awful. But I do thank all that is good that you are here. It gives me some hope," she smiled. "We must try to get out of here."
Shmi'a smiled back. "At all costs," she said, the smile melting. "My life depends on it."
