Nar Shaddaa was not a forgiving place. The Smuggler's Moon, as it was called, was full of men and women of ill-repute; the galaxy's refuse. The Hutt Cartel ran the events and goings on of the moon, their enforcers keeping the peace through intimidation, though the "peace" only extended as far as would benefit the Hutts.
"Laylah, I can't help you right now," a woman with vibrant red hair spoke down to a child, no older than six years old with pale skin and equally vibrant red hair. The child was incredibly skinny, as was the woman talking to her from behind the cantina counter in the Slippery Slopes.
"But," Laylah managed to reply, before she was cut off again.
"No, Laylah, you know you can't disturb your mother while she's working."
"Hey, Red. We've got customers over here," came the voice of a male Twi'lek from the other side of the bar.
"I have to go, sweetie. Find your sister and head home to bed. I'll be home in the morning." Then the woman rushed off, leaving the bedraggled child lightly sobbing to herself. She started to walk out of the Slippery Slopes, passing a pair of drunkards in heavy armour as she left up the ramp to the Promenade. The Promenade was full of neon lighting and overt decoration. The Hutts were gaudy and enjoyed showing everyone just how important they were. Laylah knew where Irin would be, at least.
The walk across the Promenade was uneventful. The revelry of intoxicated individuals grated upon Laylah as she moved. These people were throwing away money on alcohol, gambling and other forms of debauchery and excess when there were children like Laylah and Irin who were borderline starving and living alone whilst their mother worked around the clock.
She walked past a man who had his arms draped around two women, a grin on his face that just radiated with confidence and self-importance. Laylah clenched her fists as she walked past, before picking up an empty bottle that had been discarded on the side of the street and throwing it at him. It fell short and smashed against the floor, causing the man to turn around, drawing his pistol and pointing it at Laylah. He sighed when he saw the starving child, though his frown remained.
"Get out of here, street rat!" he yelled, holstering his pistol and gesturing her away. He continued to walk with the two women like he owned the place as Laylah stormed off. Their situation was all her father's doing and she harboured a deep hatred for him for what he put her, her mother and her sister through. He always came home late and stinking with alcohol, yet her mother still cared for him. He took everything that they owned and when the Hutt Cartel came knocking to collect on his sizeable gambling debt, he was gone, leaving Laylah's mother to pick up the pieces. She had bartered with the Hutt Cartel to only enslave her to pay off the gambling debt, as opposed to enslaving Laylah and Irin as well, but it essentially costed the girls their mother as she had no time to be with the two girls.
As Laylah rounded the corner into an alleyway, she caught sight of Irin nursing her nose against a trash chute.
"Irin!" Laylah called out, running to her sister's side. "What happened?"
Irin grinned. "You should've seen what I did to the other guy," she muttered, though her nose was bleeding and her bottom lip had split.
"Who gave you a beating if you kicked the snot out of the other guy?" Laylah inquired, wrapping her arms around her sister. The two of them were almost identical; red hair, blue eyes, though Irin's were a darker shade, pale skin and small frames that showed signs of malnourishment. They both wore nothing but dirty rags, though Laylah's hair was tied back whilst Irin wore hers loose.
"Yeah, well he brought friends." Irin laughed, though she quickly grabbed at her abdomen as her laughter was replaced by a pained expression.
"Mother told us to go home. She said she'd be back in the morning."
"Yeah, so she can sleep for about two hour before going off to work again?"
Laylah frowned, but she knew that Irin was right. It was just something that they had grown to live with.
"Come on. We need to get you home anyway, before another fight breaks out."
The two made their way back to a small, dirty apartment block, taking an elevator up to their floor and entering their room. It was, after all, a single room with barely a kitchen unit and a single bed. The toilet was functional, but dirty, much like the rest of the room and the window had long since been broken by vandals. They could barely afford food, let alone window repairs, so the room was noisy, polluted by the sounds of speeders and the far off noises of the Promenade.
Laylah helped Irin onto the bed, easing her carefully back onto the torn mattress so that she was on the most comfortable part of it.
"You going to be okay?" Laylah asked as she clambered onto the other side of the bed, moving her body in such a way to avoid the jutting springs and other uncomfortable parts of the mattress.
"Yeah." Irin shifted her weight slightly.
"Good."
The two of them dropped off to sleep fairly easily, despite the noise that would keep most people awake at night. They had gotten used to it over the past few years.
Six hours later, they woke up. Their mother was nowhere to be seen.