"Cuyan'ika"
Freedom.
The kick, the electricity of it all had long left her, in the waking hours after the rusty ol’ freighter’s departure. Apprehension stood firm in its wake. Curious how rapidly that had settled in. With very little to do and hours to spend, the mind took the form of a vicious battleground. Memories. Arguments. Choices. Choices that cannot be undone.
Accompanied by a nauseating amount of doubt. In the wake of a silent, troubled sigh, the vapors of her breath gently crashed against the ceiling, mere inches away from her cold, jet-black snout. What if her plan didn’t work out? What if this was a futile attempt at life, and she had resigned her fate to something much worse than back home..?
What if the spice runners found her now? This stowaway. Freeloader. Would they give her a quick death?
Spaced. “Probably...” she mused in silence, imagining her lifeless body adrift in the cold vacuum. “Or worse… Slavery..?” Vara’s eyes, a pair of blood-crimson orbs, with a tired gaze, looked to the withered durasteel plated ceiling in front of her mug. Her reflection, blurry and distorted in the dim, stared back at her.
A whisper, smaller than the beating of her heart. “No use,” evident surety. She punctuated her long contemplation at last. No use in worrying. Whatever happens, happens. There was no turning back now. She started this. She had taken her first step.
Her step.
Nobody decided her right to life now, other than herself.
“Mmh.” A gentle stir. The tarp under her crackled softly as Vara attempted to comfort the ache in her spine. Her heart filled with a buzz of pride and confidence as she closed her eyes. This. It felt strange how this accomplishment looked though. She hadn’t imagined how this would be the way she managed to leave that dump behind her.
“...Good as any,” Vara mused, wordlessly. The young shistavanen set about to clear her mind now, trying to think of something else. Anything, rather than what lay ahead or the past. And maybe take a quick nap; who knew how long they had till they reached their destination. Wherever that was.
The ordinary clatter of the freighter’s components eventually turned into a lullaby. The young woman curled up into a ball in an attempt to retain her body warmth. Calm had returned to her…
Or so she thought.
Her ears flickered. Pricked up in intrigue. Her crimson gaze shot open. It was unmistakable. A low racket of machinery, out of the ordinary. It did not belong to the metallic symphony she listened to for who knows how long. Then, a gradual shift. In speed. A pressurized hiss…
Were they slowing down?
Rumble…
Rumble…
CLANG!
Shudder…
After what felt like an eternity for Vara, the freighter shook with a loud rumble. Her heart skipped a beat as the jolting quakes threatened to throw her off the tower of crates she was perched upon. She barely stifled a yelp.
Then, lights. Bright, fluorescent.
As the maw of the freighter’s cargo hold opened into a hangar bay, Vara shrunk back to the shadows. The owners of the freighter, a rag tag of smugglers and their mercs could be heard making their way down, as several silhouettes appeared from the other side of the hangar, accompanied by powerlifters.
It was time to go.
Where? She’d find out.
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