Chapter Seventy-Six: Always a Slave
I awoke on a ship, a horrifically familiar weight around my neck. I jolted up right immediately, earning a low, warning growl from the Zygerrian guard sitting in the hangar chairs. I, however, along with Rex, Obi-wan, and the elderly Twi'lek from the auction, were sprawled on the floor. The ship hummed beneath us as the situation settled into my mind.
The weight around my neck was a slave collar-one with the ability to both track me, and incapacitate me with the touch of a button. Not to mention it made the crack of a slaver's whip even worse. It dawned on me that my worst nightmares were coming true. I was back in slavery. My heart raced in my chest, my vision going a bit fuzzy. I wasn't sure if it was an after effect of the electrocution or the panic in my chest.
Rex and Obi-wan were coming to, followed shortly by the Torguta. The Jedi immediately went to help him, but I knew better. "Governor Roshti," he said, making me finally realize who he was, "Are you alright?"
Immediately the whip cracked against the metal of the hangar floor. It was a warning, thankfully, but I flinched backwards out of habit nonetheless. My time as a bounty hunter, after I'd been freed, I'd grown rebellious and bold in nature. A whip made me reach my hand up to grab it and pull it away from my attacker now.
But something about the heavy metal resting on my collar bones. It returned me to this feeling of frailty. Of submission.
I tried to shake myself out of it...but I couldn't. What was happening to me?
We were ushered to our shaky feet by the guards, corralled to the hangar doors. I felt the ship settle beneath my feet as it landed. "Where are we?" Rex muttered beside me, too quietly for the guards to hear above the roaring engines.
Blood rushed in my ears at the answer. I knew where we were. Well, not where as far as coordinates, but I knew the horrible place we would be going to. The hangar doors hissed open, revealing the mining facility that doubled as a mass torture chamber. "Slave processing. Reconditioning," I whispered back, my voice cracking without my permission.
The sun slid over us like a harsh greeting, revealing the rows of dirt-covered Togrutas lined up on the platforms below. I knew what they were, my stomach pitching. I didn't have much in it, having no appetite before this mission anyways. But there was the threat of vomiting up bile at least.
"My people," the governor rejoiced, "We have found them!" He moved forward eagerly, being ignorant of what awaited both him and his people.
A guard shoved Kenobi forward in front of me. "Keep moving, skug!" I felt the Jedi's irritation, but he did nothing, thankfully. I wasn't sure what to do as we descended the gangway, my eyes settling on a familiar fat figure.
"General Kenobi," Keeper Arguss greeted. Rex walked as close to me as he could to provide comfort without getting us punished. "You are the first Jedi I have entertained at this educational center." His eyes cast over me quickly. "Though this slave is a questionable case," he chuckled. "Few possess a Jedi's resolve. And it is strength of will that is my greatest enemy." He gave us a wide smile, staring down Obi-wan as he pressed a button on his chair.
A row of Togrutas let out terrible screams as the platforms below their feet gave out, plunging them into the abyss of the mine below. I felt Obi-wan's grief as he glared at the Zygerrian.
"Now that I have your attention, Jedi, be aware that it will not be you who suffers should you defy me," Arguss reassured, turning his chair slightly. He glanced at me, his ear twitching. "You, slave. I heard about you. Bring her to me," he ordered, one of the guards immediately shoving their gun into my back.
I glanced sideways at Rex and Obi-wan as they were led off to the side to be entered into processing. They both gave me worried looks, but I did my best to look brave. I'm not sure if it was convincing. The guard pushed me forward, leading me down the steps and between the rows of trembling Togrutas. They didn't dare turn their heads, but their eyes darted sideways to watch me pass. I fought the urge to dip my head as we ascended the stairs again to meet the warden.
His chair turned slowly as he steepled his fingers, his purple-tinted eyes passing over my tattered dress. "A slave who tasted freedom," he hummed into his hands. I twisted my arm subconsciously to hide the brand, but he seemed to already know. He snapped one of his fingers at a guard, my arm being torn from where I'd tucked it at my side. The guard turned my arm to tear the silken fabric away, revealing the bubbled scar of the brand they'd put onto me years ago.
I snapped out of my stupor for a moment, pulling my arm from the guard's hold violently, smacking him away. Another guard backhanded me across the face, sending me sprawling. I found my feet quickly, though, only to have a whip crack across my back before I was forced to kneel before the warden's chair.
"I remember you, skug," Keeper Arguss growled, holding a datapad up for me to see. "You go by Kida Fett now. A bounty hunter, turned soldier for the Republic." He chuckled deeply, tucking the pad away again to glower at me again. "You seem to have reverted to your previous temperament." I sneered at him, my nose crinkling in anger. "If not worsened. Well," Arguss sighed almost happily. "I shall enjoy reminding you of what you truly are."
He drew out a familiar gadget, my breath catching in fear. It whirred as the metal end was revealed, the color shifting from black to red as it heated. The guards grabbed me violently, forcing me to be still as I pulled away with all my might.
"Stop!" Arguss roared as I punched one of his guards in the nose, feeling it crunch beneath my knuckles. He held his talon over the button on his chair, the Togrutas behind me letting out a small gasp. I stilled immediately, the guard taking advantage and dealing a blow back. My legs buckled, the other guard dragging me back to his master's feet. "If you resist...I let them all fall." He grabbed my arm viciously, his nails digging into my skin. I let out a growl of pain as the sizzling metal neared my scar. "Scream," he warned further with a sinister smile, "And I'll kill them one by one. How many lives will you end today?"
None, I decided in my mind.
I said nothing to the warden as I stared into his eyes. He pressed the metal into the scar he'd made years ago, my vision blurring. I ground my teeth to keep from screaming, every muscle in my body wanting to thrash my way to freedom. But I resisted...knowing the cost.
Arguss kept the branding tool there far longer than it needed to be, the mark searing deeper into the scar than before. Finally, my vision blurred entirely and I slumped, accepting the pain.
He stopped then, clearly no longer finding joy in my pain if I wasn't responding. Through my fuzzy vision, I saw him wave his hand dismissively, the guards lifting me by my arms. My forearm throbbed painfully enough to make me want to cry, but I dared not react to my injury until I was far from the warden.
I was half-led, half-dragged into the facility I'd known in my youth. They shoved aboard a shuttle and into decontamination, the pressure pushing on my eardrums as the room sealed behind me. Valves in the walls pushed out the disinfectant that stung my eyes and seared into my throat. I turned my injured arm towards it, finally letting a scream out when the gas touched the bubbled skin.
It hurt like hell, but I knew it would clean the wound. I likely wouldn't get another chance for a while.
With the billows of gas clouding my vision, I began to make out blurred images of beings I'd sworn to have died ages ago.
"Tal? Selias?" They looked like they hadn't aged a day. "Seku?" I reached out, but couldn't find them. I coughed at the disinfectant as it clogged my throat, my vision blurring. The clouds began to dissipate, the images of my Twi'lek friends running away into the smaller billows. "No! Stop!"
I lunged after them, but the foot I led with failed to bear weight. I sprawled immediately, my vision blurring with a mix of the disinfectant and raging memories I'd locked away for good.
Or so I had hoped.
As slaves, we weren't allowed to speak to each other. But where there were sentient beings, there was communication in some way or another. Friendships were created over small gestures and even smaller looks. A glance or a nod. An extra shovel of dirt to lessen another's load.
And then, in very special cases, there were friendships that grew to develop a silent language. Aloud, we didn't even speak the same tongue, but body language was universal. And there wasn't much to talk about other than warnings, plans of escape, and complaining about guards.
When I'd first arrived at processing, it was with a large group of Twi'lek slaves. Alema had been among them, but the Zygerrians hadn't dared send her flawless skin to the brutal world of the mines. There was no point in damaging merchandise like that.
Others close to my age were a group of three siblings. The eldest, Silais, had green skin, like his father. We had all watched their father die at the hand of an enraged slaver before arriving to processing. Silais did his best to protect his siblings, somehow feeling responsible for them now, despite being a kid himself.
Seku, who had yellow skin, was a shy girl who didn't like trouble. Still, she was quick to join her younger brother and I when we tried our plans. And even quicker to do anything she could to bail us out again after we messed up.
The youngest, Tal, had orange skin like his mother, who was also with us. She was worse for wear, though. And while he never said it to his siblings, he'd confided in me that he didn't think she'd survive this place.
He'd been right.
Their mother died within the first few weeks of reconditioning. And she wasn't the only one. The conditions were horrible. The mine air was thick and hot, making it hard to breathe while you were forced to labor for hours with no breaks...aside from the few lashes thrown your way by a passing guard. The food we got was rotten and stale, and there was little of it. The water was putrid, but it was all we had to drink. Sometimes it made people sick.
If you didn't die from the conditions, your willpower was tested. We quickly found out that this was a test you wanted to fail. A score that revealed high willpower...Keeper Arguss wanted nothing to do with. Those people would go missing, too.
Some came back, though, but they were never the same. Few kept causing trouble.
That was where being a child came in handy. Tal and I, being the fastest, usually pulled off the more risky stunts. The mines were the easiest places to try to snatch extra rations or nab a key. They had a lot of small holes for us to duck into.
Silais, being sixteen and too big for the quicker maneuvers, usually caused a distraction. He'd only do this after Seku dragged him into it for us, of course.
When we were working up in the engine rooms, trickery was harder. That was usually where we'd tuck our heads and work, letting our pride slide down our throats with our sanity.
When we could, we would sneak extra food for ourselves, and those that needed it most. But we were discrete, and kept a far distance between us and those known to tattle for treats from the warden. You always had to be careful of a rat in a prison.
That was where our silent language, filled with hand gestures and facial expressions, came in handy. Planning was simple and communicating during an operation completely silent. And so long as we were careful, the guards never suspected a thing.
"Kida?" I ignored the familiar voice for a moment, struggling to breathe in the heavy mine air. I glanced down, seeing the dirty rags I'd stolen off the streets of Corellia. It was from that terrible Priscia woman. She deserved for me to steal a coat, really.
Finally, I turned to see Tal, frowning when it dawned that he'd spoken. I gestured to him silently. Don't speak! Idiot. I'm not being whipped for you.
The orange Twi'lek's brow lifted, but he obliged. Look around. No guards. "It's safe to speak."
I looked around as he'd instructed, my frown deepening when I realized this section of the mine was abandoned other than the two of us. "What's going on?" I whispered, my voice sounding wrong to my ears.
My friend gave me a sad smile. "You need to wake up."
"What?"
"Wake up, Kida. Wake up!"
"Wake up!" The voice melted from that of my friend to that of a snarling Zygerrian. "Up, you worthless skug!" His claws dug into the wound on my arm, making me cry out. He clearly didn't care, dragging me to my feet and throwing me forward.
I stumbled from the decontamination room, my vision fuzzy. That had been weird. My vision had felt so real, prior to my passing out. I swallowed thickly past the lump in my throat, doing my best to shake the haze.
But it wouldn't budge. A fog settled over my mind, making my vision blurry and unfocused. I trudged forward, my body obeying the guards, despite my mind wanting to fight. But what could I do?
I was a slave...again.
The Zygerrians knew nothing of mercy, so they'd sent me straight down to the mines with my open wound. They'd done the same to me years before, which was why I'd taken the chance to clean it when I did. The bindings were taken from my wrists, the deadly glares of the guards and the heavy air being chains enough.
I couldn't tell how long I was there. My body, though aching and exhausted, fell into the motions of the mine labor as if it never forgot. I was digging up the steaming soil in no time, the guards only giving me a few shoves as they left.
I was grateful that they'd spared me the whip. It was hard enough to keep myself upright between the fog over my mind and the searing agony in my forearm. I shook myself to awareness as best as I could, glancing around sneakily. There were some Togrutas around me, but none that I recognized. And no Rex or Kenobi.
I could only assume it was part of the warden's plan-separating me from my friends. After all, I had been an incredibly difficult case years before. And he had been right in assuming that I was even more bull-headed than I'd been back then.
But young Kida hadn't endured this place before. She didn't know what awaited her in this place.
I did.
I'd promised myself I wouldn't break. Of course, I didn't expect to be back in reconditioning during this mission...but I'd still bowed my head to the warden and obeyed. I told myself it had been the right thing to do, considering I was saving lives.
But it still felt like a betrayal to myself.
My breath hitched just slightly, my shovel stopping halfway into the soil. I could have sworn I'd seen a flash of orange skin running amongst the swirling steam. After a few more throws of the shovel to keep the guards off my back, I looked again, straining my eyes in the dim, flickering light.
Gray eyes stared back at me through the mist, his face clean despite the dirt that seemed to cover everything down here. My back straightened slightly as I watched the young Twi'lek. He looked nearly my age, and the image shot me through the chest like a bolt.
I knew he couldn't be my age. He'd never gotten the chance to grow up. As if on cue, the mist swirled thickly around the older image of Tal, covering him completed.
"Back to work!" a Zygerrian snarled from behind me, his whip cracking across my shoulders. I let out a cry, falling forward into the ash, feeling it create a layer over my sweating skin.
Still, I found my feet and obeyed...like a good slave. But my eyes lifted again to see the mist clearing, revealing Tal as I had known him.
And how I'd lost him.
He was nine now, his lekku short and barely brushing his shoulders. His face, usually bright with hope and the humor he could find in everything, was swollen and broken. Blue blood was smeared across his lips and nose, one of his eyes deformed and grotesque.
Tears clouded my vision as much as the fog in my brain, the shovel slipping from my grasp.
The guards fell on me like ravenous rock-lions, their whips creating a symphony of cracks and screams. When they finally stopped, one of them dragging me back to my feet and forcing my shovel into my hands, Tal had already disappeared.
Whether it was into the depths of the mines...or into my mind...I couldn't say for certain.
As more time passed, I began to wonder if I was losing my sanity. Or if the mine happened to be tapping into a well of Force power that was enjoying tormenting me. I kept seeing flashes of gray eyes, all different shades. But I knew who they belonged to. I'd see flashes of their colored skin amongst the curling mist, only for it to dissipate to reveal a Togruta of a completely different hue.
By the time I was trudging towards the shuttles with the other exhausted slaves, I was convinced my left arm was going to fall off. The pain from the labor aside, the reopened wound of the brand had filled with soot. I was grateful for the decontamination we would get on the way back, despite how much it would hurt.
Besides, nothing would hurt more than what I had to do first. On the way out of the mines, there was water and rags to scrub the soot from your fingers, so decontamination could do its work. I snatched one up, dousing it in the dirtied water, before scrubbing it over the wound.
I growled through my teeth deeply, earning a few shocked glances from the slaves around me. They must be newer. Slaves that were broken by this time in this place didn't bother to look at those around them. Not unless they were spoken to directly.
When I felt that the rag had dragged enough soot and grime from my wound, I gave it a final rinse, knowing the water was far from clean. The decontamination on the shuttle would help with that. Hopefully.
The next shuttle arrived, the Zygerrians herding us aboard like livestock. The steaming chemicals burned my eyes and throat, coating the bloodied brand on my arm. It stung, but I took that it meant that it was working.
The familiar stench of filth, death, and hopelessness filled the air as we entered the main facility. We passed by the orange-tinted room that I remembered to be our feeding room. There wasn't really any other way to label it. It wasn't a cafeteria, since it's not like we had tables or options or any shred of dignity. We were thrown bowls of stale scraps.
After weeks in the mines, though, that was a divine dinner.
Of course I knew better now, and despite my slight hunger, I wasn't overly saddened by my apparent missing dinner. We went straight for the sleeping hall, the long rows bathed in a harsh blue light.
Immediately the Force nudged at my mind, drawing my eyes along the rows of planks we were supposed to call beds. Along the wall, where the massive fan spun a circle of dancing shadows across the hall, I sensed a familiar presence.
And it was reaching out to me. This person wasn't a Force wielder though. I could tell by the sloppy way his mind was reaching out, blundering through everyone's thoughts like a rocket. He was anxious. Worried about me. Tortured about the state of these people and this empire of slavery. And how much he felt like he was looking into his brothers' faces sometimes.
His mind was an open door and I slipped into it easily, wrapping myself in his thoughts like a safety net. I felt him relax from across the room when he felt my touch in his mind. I could almost feel his hand closing around mine.
"Move it, skug!" a Zygerrian hissed at me, giving me a hit to the back of the head.
The blow made me lose my focus, falling from Rex's thoughts. Still, he'd felt and heard enough that he sat up on the bunk he was lounging on, looking in my direction with a new light in his eyes.
I shook my head, rubbing it gently as I walked forward to walk between the bunks. Looking up finally, my gaze met Rex's, seeing Obi-wan in a bunk across from him. I gave them both the subtlest of nods, but looked away right after. They understood that they shouldn't greet me.
Not visibly, at least.
Obi-wan, knowing my sensitivity to the Force, brushed gently against my mind with his. It almost felt like a gentle knuckle over my cheek. It felt fatherly. Compassionate. I greeted him in turn, through I knew he could feel the confusion of my thoughts. As well as the despair I was fighting off.
I ducked in front of a tired looking Togruta, snatching his sleeping spot. It was right next to Rex's. I felt a little bad, since I knew the weariness of reconditioning, but I needed to be near Rex.
I decided I was going to be selfish in this place.
I climbed up onto the higher bunk, my body aching from the day's work in the mines. My pain didn't go unnoticed by the clone. And the clone's concern didn't go unnoticed by the Jedi. Still, Obi-wan made no inclination to his knowledge of our relationship. Then again, there was no way he didn't know about Anakin and Padme, and yet he'd never said anything to them.
Rex knew better than to speak to me. It seemed they were learning quickly. Well...Rex was, at least. I could feel Kenobi's turmoil, despite him guarding his thoughts from me. He was determined to stay strong, but he was rattled by my defeated state.
I supposed it was a bad thing.
But I couldn't help it.
Rex and I were on the row of bunks that lined the wall, the massive van whirring gently beside me. I turned towards it, curling my injured arm into my chest, the other laying under my head.
"Cyare," I heard the captain whisper from the other side of the divide. He shifted, his gloved hand reaching slowly around the edge. There wasn't a lot of room between the shelving units we called beds and the wall, but it was enough for our fingers to tangle together.
The touch was immediately calming, and it was hard to keep the floodgates closed. I screwed my eyes shut against it, breathing slowly through my nose to try and steady myself. Rex's thumb brushed over my knuckles gently. I could feel his concern, but neither of us dared speak further. I gave his hand a firm squeeze, making sure to pack all my appreciation and love into it.
It wasn't a lot, but it was all we could offer at the time.
If I hadn't been so exhausted, I likely wouldn't have been able to sleep. Yet, as my body ached and my mind raced, I was lulled into a fitful sleep by the warmth of Rex's hand around mine. His touch chased away the nightmares of my waking moments that arrived in this place...but it could do nothing against the terrors of sleep.
MANDO'A
Cyare- beloved