| Coruscant Underworld |
| Level 5 |
"500,000 Credits."
"Heh, for that? Listen friend, I only take quality product. And what you've brought? It ain't exactly up to snuff."
"So let's talk."
A shivering, wide-eyed Twi'lek stood by the side of an armored individual as she listened to the tongues of foul men bargain over her flesh; bruised skin and malnourishment on display, bloodshot eyes bearing witness to the cruelty of the lower zoo beneath Coruscant. Her mind wandered away from the unpleasant predicament as she tried to find some inkling of brighter memories, something whole and warm. It had been what felt like an eternity since she last saw her family - since she could feel the touch of her child's hand upon her own.
"Look at her, she's half starved and all roughed up. You expect me to hash out numbers with you when this is what's offered? Piss off."
"Yet you're the one who contacted me, remember? You sounded awfully desperate for new product."
"..."
"I guess this concludes our meeting, so long-"
"Wait, dammit... wait."
"Oh? Changing your tune?"
Her eyes narrowed upon the ground, heart sinking deep into her stomach as she came to terms with the fate confronting her. No one was coming to the rescue, there was nothing a scream or struggle would prove to gain, except more beatings or perhaps a blaster to the temple. Shameful concepts invaded the Twi'lek's thoughts as she considered an alternative end to her suffering, but what of the life she was forced to leave behind? What would become of her child? Her life was not in her own hands, and as she came to realize this, the silence sealing her lips became her only friend - or at least the closest thing to one.
Suffering was the only way, and through this, she swore to herself to live on.
"350,000? I guess I can live with that. So, where are you taking our lovely lady?"
"Nal Hutta, managed to find a couple clients there seeking bodies, among other things. Always hated that place, too damn humid."
Grabbed by the arm, the Twi'lek found herself being thrown to the floor; her gaze met with the faceless abyss of the armored individual's helmet. Only contempt came to her mind as she picked herself up, being shoved along by armed personnel towards what appeared to be a holding cell; tossed like garbage once more, the woman curled up into a fetal position. Her eyelids felt heavy, and soon after, she found herself adrift among a sea of hopeful dreams.
A place where she finally found some peace of mind.
"Where are you off to now?"
"That's personal."
"Yeah? Well keep in touch, might have more work for you soon."
"You know how to reach me."
Slow, deliberate footfalls faded out as each step clacked against duracrete and deteriorated metal; the armored individual blending into the scum infested streets as a cacophony of shouting and typical underworld affairs swallowed up its latest catch. Such was the way of things down in the depths, and not a single soul would whisper out of turn.
