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She hadn’t expected to live.
When she’d gone to Tatooine, chasing the boy Master Kenobi was so determined to protect, she’d gone with a sucking saber wound in her side and only anger to fuel her. And yet, she hadn’t been able to kill the boy. Had broken down crying in the arms of one of the monsters who murdered the first and only family she’d ever known. Had let him bring her back to his own home, treat her with his own medical supplies, defend her against Mastser Kenobi when he returned.
Living was painful, but living there specifically was awkward as well, which was almost worse. So when the clone who saved her suggested bringing her to some friends offworld... well, she would’ve been a fool to say no. Master Kenobi was too kind to kick her out, especially after his mate went through so much trouble to save her, but the tension in the little desert house said clearly what he wouldn’t. She wasn’t welcome there. Not after everything she’d done to them, to their little family.
So, she packed. She didn’t have much; a change of clothes given by the aunt of the boy she’d tried to kill, a datapad Master Kenobi put together with some lessons for her, and what little of her gear had survived both the fighting and being stripped of trackers after. All told, it fit in a single small pack, which she tucked under the copilot seat on the Dual Dawn before takeoff.
“You ready?” the clone asked, and she nodded, strapping herself in. It wasn’t a terribly long flight, just two short hyperspace jumps. She tried to meditate, but it was hard, the Force slipping out of her grasp and stray thoughts scattering any small semblance of concentration she managed to cultivate. It would’ve been so much easier to slip back to using the Dark, but she had promised Master Kenobi. It was childish, it was stupid, but she wanted to make him proud. To show him that his riduur [husband] hadn’t made a mistake in saving her.
“We’re here.” the clone said, setting down in the spaceport as gently as a craft like the Dual Dawn could. “Come on, it’s a bit of a hike to get to the only entrance they trusted me with.”
“Trusted?” she asked, grabbing her bag and following him out of the ship. The spaceport and surrounding town didn’t look like much, dusty dirt roads and cheaply built shops and houses, but the people were fairly varied, and only a handful openly carried weapons.
“They’re quite secretive.” he explained. “This close to Hutt space, anyone working a freedom trail has to be.”
“Oh.” she looked down, but couldn’t keep her gaze on the ground for long, both curiosity and training drawing her eyes back up to examine her surroundings. The spaceport was on the edge of town, which wasn’t unusual, but the location of the town itself was eye-catching. Steep stone walls rose up on either side, perhaps one kilometre off on her right and two on her left. Aside from the port, the entire town was nestled within a canyon. One which seemed to only have the single entrance and exit.
Beyond the town, a waterfall crashed down the rear face of the canyon, and as they neared the far edge of the settlement after several minutes of walking she could make out some sturdier looking structures along what must be the river. Water intake and hydro-power, probably. There were also some structures up against the walls, around what looked like the entrances to caves. Mining operations of some kind, perhaps?
They veered off the main road, and after a few turns down narrow side streets stopped in front of a perfectly unremarkable little housing unit, built with its back against the canyon wall like every other house in is row. The clone knocked a pattern on the door with quick, sharp raps.
“What business have you here?” a droid asked in Bocce.
“I’m following the trail in the stars.” the clone responded, in Basic, and a moment later the door slid open. A B2 battle droid stood behind it, plating painted a utilitarian brown with a crisp silver serpent stencilled on what would’ve been the left collarbone area, for a human.
“Enter.” the droid gestured, and she followed the clone inside. The droid led them through a unit which looked lived-in, if only barely, and opened a closet near the back. And then opened the back of the closet with a concealed switch, revealing a hidden tunnel behind it.
Whoever these people were, they were extremely cautious. She couldn’t even see the switch which had opened the door, when she looked at the wall as they passed into the tunnel. A tunnel which was, it seemed, carved into the canyon directly. It sloped up, rather than down, and after a while more of walking she sensed life up ahead. Not more than a dozen, though they felt oddly... fuzzy, in the Force. Muffled, almost. Not like they were shielding, but like something was interfering with her ‘signal’.
“Almost there.” the clone assured her, and shortly after the ground levelled out, the tunnel opening up into a cave which, while still small, was at least the size of a room not a narrow corridor.
“You bring a stranger to us.” a heavily modulated voice said, and a human stepped into the room. He- his Force signature was muffled, but not that muffled- wore a full suit of armour, painted in stark black and white and red. The designs were angular, save for a crimson serpent stencilled on his left pauldron. The same one as on the droid.
“She is only recently Freed from the Empire.” the clone said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “My clan does not have the space or resources to see her through to self-sufficiency.”
“Well then.” the helmeted man bowed his head, but didn’t remove his bucket. “You may call me Ruus’alor [Sergeant], he/him. What should I call you?”
“I am the thir-” she stopped, grimacing. “My name is Reva.” she corrected herself. “She/her.”
“Will you be coming in, or leaving again?” Ruus’alor asked the clone at her side.
“I’ll come in, I think.” he said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “If Reva doesn’t want to stay, I won’t take her ride offworld away until she’s made that choice.”
Ruus’alor nodded, and turned on his heel, gesturing them to follow. Reva did, and after a few twists and turns the caves began to look a little less natural, with walls smoothed up to about head height and paths and steps ground into the stone. “We’ve no other Freed with us at the moment, so you’ll have your pick of housing.” Ruus’alor gestured down a hallway as they walked through what must be the ‘town center’ of this little hidden settlement. “Well, none who’re still in temporary housing.” he chuckled. “Mav moved in with his riduur [spouse] ages ago now.”
It became evident, in the short distance they walked between the entrance and hallway, that people were watching. She could sense them, and in her peripheral vision spotted a few brightly armoured figures, most wearing buckets. The quarters Ruus’alor led them to were sparsely furnished, impersonal, with whitewashed stone walls and a soft rug in a geometric pattern of three shade of brown. It held no notable echoes in the Force, save for a faint feeling of safety, of relief. If this wing of the compound was used to house sentients being moved along a freedom trail, that made a certain amount of sense.
She set her bag down on the bed- carved of the same stone as the room, with a bare mattress- and followed the clone and Mandalorian back out into what must be the central area of the compound. “Marshal Commander, Sir!” one of the Mandalorians blurted when they walked up on a group of three of them, clustered around a dejarik table clearly made of some old shipping crates. She even shot to her feet and saluted, facing the clone directly. Her armour was largely polished dark metal, with large swathes of matte black breaking up her silhouette and a few strikes of orange-gold popping brightly around the edges of her visor, the center of her chestplate, and wrists and ankles of her limb armour. Her serpent, too, was the same orange-gold as the decorations on the clone Reva stood next to now.
“At ease.” the clone who’d brought her here said, and the Mandalorian stood down, the modulator in her bucket making horrid, raspy noises as she audibly tried not to cry. “Tet, right?”
“Tettar, Sir.” the Mandalorian choked out, and she flinched as the other two armoured figures- each in deep blue armour, one with a white serpent and one with green- dropped a hand to the blasters on their hips.
“K’udesii, vod’e. [Easy, brothers.]” the clone said, pulling his own bucket off. “I’m just here making a drop-off.”
“Ah, you can catch up with your verde [troops] while I show the little miss here around.” Ruus’alor scoffed.
“I’m taller than you.”
“And half my age.” Ruus’alor brushed off her objection. “We want to send him back in one piece, you three. Play nice.”
The Mandalorian with a green serpent made a dismissive sound, which Ruus’alor seemed to take as agreement. She hesitated, but the clone gestured for her to go, so she went. When she glanced over her shoulder, another Mandalorian in mostly-orange armour was heckling the clone, though the cavern’s acoustics prevented her from telling just what they were discussing.
Well, if worst came to worst she could always just steal the weapon off of whoever was nearest to her and slaughter her way out. Getting work as a bounty hunter shouldn’t be that hard, this far out into the rim.