Fiction Activity

Competition
Driver Picks the Music!
Textual submission

Dathomir - Nightsister Enclave

The dying light of Damir reflected off the chrome of the Chelandion-class cruiser like a beacon.

“Kark, how did they find me?” Sinya’ni asked as she watched the Hutt ship descend next to a nearby settlement. The diminutive Twi’lek had been hiding out on Dathomir for over a year now and was finally starting to feel at home among the witches and nightbrothers.

“What makes you so sure they are here for you?” asked Callum, a large yellow skinned Nightbrother. The Zabrak had been Sinya’s martial arts instructor and mentor since she arrived in this coven.

“I can sense it. I can sense her.” Sinya’s old mercenary partner, Ash, was the only one to survive their last mission. She was on that ship, and she wasn’t alone. The ship was bustling with what Sinya assumed were slavers. “She must have tracked *The Pestilence* somehow.”

*The Pestilence* was a YT 2000 that served as home and headquarters for the crew of mercs that double crossed her. She never could get the smell of their burning flesh out of the walls. Ash had not been there when it happened. Sinya wondered if the Clawdite had learned the fate of her comrades and if she was here to avenge their deaths. Well, the Twi’lek wasn’t going to wait around to find out.

“It is time I moved on. Blue skin and lekku don’t exactly blend in here,” she stated. “I need to find a ship.”

“I thought you had a ship,” Callum teased. “Did you forget where you parked?”

“No! Of course not. That is not my ship. Besides...The smell is a reminder of...well, let’s just say I need a new ship. Besides, if Ash tracked it here, she’ll track it again.” The Twi’lek looked equal parts worried and annoyed. “Care to accompany me to the shipyards?”

“Nope, you are on your own little sister. I avoid the...visitors. But if you think you are ready to return to the rest of the galaxy, we will not stop you.” With that the seven foot tall horned warrior walked back into the cave.

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Dathomir - Aurilia

“This here is the best ship in the yard, guaranteed to outrun the most persistent pursuer! It can be yours for merely...four hundred thousand credits.” The human looked expectantly at the undersized Twi’lek.

Sinya studied the Aka'jor-class Shuttle intently. It would certainly outclass anything she’d flown; however, the price would be a problem.

“Do you have anything for about...thirty thousand?” she inquired reluctantly.

The salesman’s face visibly fell. “Well, we have a couple options in that price range,” he said dejectedly while glancing around the yard for any other customers. “They are over there,” he continued while pointing to two old ships. One was a decent looking little ship. A small brick that could hold about three people. The other was slightly bigger but in much worse condition.

“How about that little one? Will it get me off world?” she queried.

“The YT Dart? Sure it will, not sure where you’d go from there. It will take you years to get anywhere habitable with those sublight engines,” he scoffed. “You’d be better off in that bucket of bolts.” He pointed at the larger ship. “It’s got a standard hyperdrive. And the good news is it costs less than the ionization fluid needed to power it!” he laughed.

Sinya inspected the Sheathipede-class transport. It wasn’t much to look at, but it had good bones and the price was right.

“Does it fly?” she asked skeptically. “It looks like it’s seen better days.”

“Of course it flies. It may be old and in need of a paint job, but it’s space worthy. You can have it for ten thousand. Take it or leave it.” The man was done handholding the demihuman for a sale that would not make him much commission. He was ready to take the credits and move on to bigger fish so to speak. Like the quarren that had just walked onto the lot.

“I will pay you ten thousand, and you will give it a tune up, a paint job, and top off all the fluids for free.” As she spoke, she gestured with her hand dismissively. “And it will be ready for lift off tomorrow morning at first light.”

“Ok, deal. Tony! Get this junk a tuneup and a paint job. Fill it up for an early morning departure.” The salesman grabbed the credit chit Sinya held out as he hurried off to his new customer.

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Dathomir - leaving orbit

Sinya sat in the pilot’s seat programming the navicomputer. She punched in the last coordinates and locked in the route. As the familiar stars stretched into lines, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Alone at last. I have...twenty days, six hours, and thirty-four minutes before I have to pretend again...and I’m talking to myself. Not a good start Sinya’ni. But look at this ship! Finally, a ship of my own that doesn’t come with memories of betrayal and death and regrets.” She got up and walked around, taking it all in. Her hand trailed along the wall as she explored her new home. “Yes, you will do nicely, New Leaf,” she said, patting the side of the ship. “It’s time to finally leave the past behind…”