Chapter Text
Run. Run. Run.
A single word ran through the forefront Yona’s mind, a roaring crescendo. Of course, the rag-tag ship she had stowed away on incessantly warned of low oxygen, forcing the pilot to land sooner than scheduled. Of course, the planet had to be Nevarro, of all places. And of course, the mechanic would check every inch of the ship, finding clues of a hidden passenger. The moment he left the craft, she darted out, drawing the attention of the pilot.
Yona spared a glance over her shoulder, and sure enough, there he was. Spouting profanities and gaining ground too quickly. She directed her attention back to escape, scanning the shipyard for any inkling of hope. Weaving through various working crews, she took a sharp right between two ships. Another turn, squeezing through two stacks of cargo boxes. It felt as though all the air in her lungs had been left on that confounded ship.
Trembling with adrenaline, she made one more turn and crouched behind a rusty, well-worn speeder bike. If I took this, I could cover some ground quickly. I’d outrun them for a day or two.
She shook the thought away. I’d be lucky to make it to the lava flats.
Heaving lungfuls of sandy air, her head turned to regard a model she had not seen before. Two large engines poised above a bulky hull that had seen far better days. A sole mechanic was working on the engine farthest from her. The metalwork was scuffed with blaster marks. Not a very hospitable prospect…but the hatch was open.
Yona could hear shouting in the main street she had diverted off of, soon she would lose her cover. She pulled up her dark green hood, checked behind the bike one last time, and darted the 100 feet that lay between her and the craft.
The inside of the hull was dim as she scanned for any sign of life. She heard tools whirring in the cockpit above as she searched for somewhere to hide. A few steps to her right and she shuddered as she saw the carbonizer, beginning to regret this plan. Suddenly, the whirring stopped. Yona lengthened her strides away from the freezer and past the ladder she assumed went to the control room. She slid between the far wall and a towering, locked cabinet, barely out of sight.
A portly, grease-covered ship technician descended the ladder, eyes glued to the data pad in her hands. She muttered to herself before stomping down the ramp to call to the engine worker. Yona pressed up against the wall, nails almost scraping against the metal in anticipation, before she felt a slightly raised section. Glancing down at her hand, she could have cried in relief. A button! Resuming her watch of the ramp, she used the slightest degree of pressure to push into the panel.
A light whoosh and the metal rose, revealing a claustrophobic bed space. The bedding was unmade, a brown lump of coarse fabric in the far corner. While not the best option, at least it would keep her out of sight. Yona clambered in, quickly closing the hatch behind her. The light flickered in the compartment but continued to illuminate the space.
Finally given a moment to rest, a huff of breath escaped her. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. Mother was right, running would get me nowhere but trouble. An exhausted tear fell down her cheek, carving a trail through the grime on her face. She sniffled.
Or rather, something sniffled.
Yona froze, feeling a stir by her thigh. The slow movement of her head to face it juxtaposed by the fast pounding of blood in her ears. In what felt like a century, the lump of brown blankets righted itself and looked at her with immensely black eyes. It cooed at her, reaching out a little tridactyl hand.
Yona was shell-shocked. Firstly, who leaves a baby alone on a ship surrounded by bounty hunters? Secondly, is…it a baby? She gently brushes the brown, blanket hood off the child’s head, revealing two lengthy green ears. If she wasn’t so mortified, she would have laughed and scooped it into her arms. As it was, she withdrew her hand cautiously and picked a little piece of dried meat from her pack. The child was very interested. She placed the offering on the ground, hoping food would garner favor with it.
Those black eyes blinked at her before crinkling slightly in a full, toothy smile. With a triumphant babble, the child stooped to grab the food, promptly swallowing it whole. Yona began to relax her guard, even as the creature waddled toward her. It almost seemed to imitate her slouch against the same wall, looking up expectantly.
“Is this your ship? Hm?” Yona tried.
The child cooed again and tilted its little head.
“I suppose not…You’re a bit young for a pilot. Are you trapped here?”
Unblinking silence. Perhaps it didn’t understand her after all. She fed it (perhaps unwisely) another piece of her limited provisions.
“Well, maybe you’ll appreciate a bit of bribery. I just hope whoever’s keeping you is as understanding –”
A chorus of voices outside. Angry, stomping steps at the mouth of the ship. Yona held her breath, holding the young one closer to her.
One voice rises over the rest, placatingly, “Look, I get your situation, but this isn’t your ship! You gotta wait until the owner comes back!”
“No, you don’t get my situation! That thieving little mouse cost me a week’s worth of rations. If I don’t get ‘em now I’ll lose my compensation,” the pilot blustered.
Yona scoffed in disbelief, looking at the meagre offerings in her bag.
“…In fact, they’ve probably got a shit-stained chain code, the rat. All the more reason to tack ‘em down here for a bounty!”
“Look, just let me get in touch with the owner and we can work something out,” comes the technician’s weary voice.