Chapter Text
Darkness.
Darkness was the first thing she registered; it was unusual. Ever since she was young, her brain has almost always come up with something while she slept . Whether that be memories that were blurry and foggy, or weird dreams, sometimes nightmares, or occasionally schematics for something that she could try and build.
Never just plain darkness. The expanse of just black unnerved her, especially since she was aware of it. She looked around and could see her hands, slightly scarred and calloused from her work, along with her nightshirt and, by extension, her sleep shorts and legs. But everything else was just... empty.
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, what is this? Suddenly, the emptiness wasn't so empty; she could hear whispers just behind her, but when she whipped around, there was nothing there. They weren't only behind her; the sound came from everywhere, all around her. "Hello?" She cautiously called out, and her hands subconsciously curled into fists, prepared to punch just in case.
The whispers started to become louder but were still incomprehensible, the words all muddled together, so that she couldn't get a grasp on what they were saying. Until they stopped altogether, leaving her in silence again.
"What the fuck?" She muttered, looking around the darkness once more, just to make sure something hadn't sprung out of the darkness. Once more, the whispers started back up, louder this time; they sounded like stage whispers.
“She is not ready."
"Such sensitivity."
"No, she is ready."
"But she is not—"
"Does not matter," They whisper, between themselves. Although she doesn't know what it or what they are.
"Save," They say in sync, startling her.
“What?" She lets out, her eyebrows still knitted in confusion.
"Save," They repeat like she's supposed to immediately understand .
"Save what? What are you? Why am I here? What is this place?" She started firing off questions.
"You must save it!" They say louder.
"What is it ?! Answer me!" She replied, and they stayed quiet for a few seconds.
"You are"
"The only one"
"Who can help it!" They answered in pieces; each time was a different voice speaking .
“How? 'Cause so far, it seems you've got the wrong girl," She says, her arms crossing over her chest.
"No."
"We are not wrong."
"You are Tatum Kantor, 18 years old." They reply, once again in pieces, finishing their sentences.
“How the fuck do you know that?" She lets out, stepping away, even though the voice, or voices , seemed to emanate from all around her.
"We know many things."
"You have to save it!" They answer.
"What is it ?! You still haven't answered that!" Tatum points out.
"In due time,"
"It shall be revealed."
"We cannot stay much longer."
"Too dangerous," They say.
"What do you mean, too dangerous?" She asks, frustrated that her questions continue to be ignored.
"We will"
"Visit you again"
"Just wait."
"Right now, just trust,"
"In the Force," They say, the stage whispers starting to quieten down.
"The Force?" Tatum quietly lets out in question; she hadn't thought of the Force for a while, having suppressed it because using it was too risky.
"The Force"
"Shall guide you."
"It always does."
"Just follow it,"
"And it shall lead you where you are to go," They answer, getting even quieter.
"Okay..." She mutters, still confused, but the whispers don't reply anymore, seemingly gone from this strange place.
"Tatum," A muffled voice calls, making her wonder how long she's been in this place. "Tatum!" The voice calls again, a bit louder this time, until...
"TATUM KANTOR!" The voice rings true and loud, and Tatum's taken from whatever dreamland space she was in, now registering the sunlight filtering through her windows, as well as the incessant banging on her door.
"GET YOUR BUTT UP RIGHT NOW! YOU'RE LATE TO WORK!" The voice, which she now realizes belongs to her boss, shouts, still knocking harshly on the younger's door.
"Shit!" She curses to herself, springing out of bed to try to dress hurriedly. "I'm, uh... I'm awake, Morgan! Please, quit bangin' on my door!" Tatum calls to the older lady on the other side of the door, who obliges. But Tatum can feel a headache starting to form anyway.
"Finally! Never knew you were such a deep sleeper, kid," Morgan says, a bit exasperated as she leans on the wall next to Tatum's door.
"Usually not... Just had a weird dream," Tatum says, fastening certain belts that her uniform required, as well as collecting her bag and letting her goggles rest atop her head like they do every day.
"Weird dream? Was it one of those nightmares?" Morgan asks, and Tatum can just make out the concern that underlines her words. Her boss, Morgan, was never one for wearing her emotions on her sleeve.
"No. Just weird," She answers, the door finally opening as she tugs her boot on, quickly lacing it before standing up straight.
Morgan looks her up and down, trying to look for any sign she wasn't being entirely truthful, and upon finding none, she shrugs. "C'mon, the shop's late for opening," Morgan says as she starts walking down the hall and the flight of stairs that separates the shop and the living quarters, all with Tatum in tow.
"How late?" Tatum asks, a bit worried about how long she was in that dream place; she was still unsure of what the place even was.
"Half an hour, not too bad. Still late though, kid," Morgan answered, turning on the neon sign that says open, as well as unlocking the store door.
Morgan owned and ran a mechanics shop on a slightly backwater planet, the shop also sold spare parts and bits and bobs. But mainly, the shop focused on repairs. Tatum was her only employee; she was more like a protege than just an employee, however. Morgan had taken the younger in, seeing the potential and passion that she shared, but also seeing a bit of herself in Tatum. Although she would never admit that.
"Well, we don't have any appointments anyway. Shouldn't be too bad," Tatum shrugged, making sure her uniform wasn't missing anything in her sleepy and panicked rush to dress. Morgan doesn't reply with anything other than an eye roll and an exasperated sigh, heading into the back where her office was, leaving the front to Tatum as always.
【🌟】
"FUCK!" The curse flew from her lips, hands gripping the ship's steering wheel so tight her knuckles were starting to turn white. Being chased by bounty hunters was not on Althea's list for the day... Or any day, for that matter.
"Esra!... Anywhere nearby that we can jump to?!" Althea questioned the younger boy, who was frantically checking through coordinates and planets in reach with the amount of fuel they had left.
"Um..." He hums nervously, blue eyes flickering across the data in front of him. "There's... Oriann, low Imp presence, and it seems like a good place to lie low for a bit," Esra suggests, looking over at the captain.
"Okay, input the coordinates," Althea ordered, preparing the ship to jump into hyperspace.
"Got it!" Esra replied, quickly inputting the planet into the ship's computer and holding onto his seat's armrests in preparation. Hyperspace was normally pretty fine for him, but with the ship's damage, they were probably in for a rocky and or turbulence-filled trip.
"Hang on," Althea said, making the ship hop into hyperspace, the stars blurring into white streaks as they shuttled past. Esra squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best not to fall out of his seat. After a few seconds, the ship exited hyperspace, showing the desert planet, Oriann, in all its glory... Or sort of glory.
"A desert planet?" Althea glanced over at Esra while she tried to find a good place to land.
"Yup... Got a problem with desert planets?" Esra raised an eyebrow at his captain.
"There's always so much sand," Althea half-heartedly complained, still focused on landing before her beloved ship went kaput.
"Ah, there's a town, we should land around here," Esra said, pressing buttons on his station. Althea nods, working on landing without crashing. Once the landing measures ensured the ship was steady on the sandy terrain, both of the inhabitants sighed in relief. They both take a moment to calm down from the adrenaline that comes with being involved in a chase with determined bounty hunters before Althea unbuckles from her seat and stands up.
"Alright, we should check the damage," She says, walking out of the cockpit and heading to the ramp. Esra follows, watching as she hits the button for the ramp to unfold and open. Almost immediately, the warm air of Oriann hits the two as they exit the ship, their boots slightly sinking into the sand.
Taking in the damage and the look of Althea's beloved ship, The Viper, Esra cringes, and Althea simply rubs the irritation from her face. "Okay, let's see if this little town has a mechanics shop... And maybe a fucking cantina," She says, quickly heading inside to grab their things, before tossing Esra's bag to him as she closes up the ship.
【🌟】
The day goes by slowly; not many people need repairs or spare parts today. Tatum decides to deal with her growing boredom by tinkering with scrap that was going to get tossed or melted anyway; her goggles sat over her eyes as she messed with the hunk of metal. As she fell into the routine of soldering or welding pieces together and adding other tech bits to it, her mind went back to the whispers and that black expanse. What was that place? Who or what were the voices? What is It ? And how was she supposed to save it?...
How would she be able to reconnect with the Force after she cut it off for her survival?
As the thoughts clouded her mind, and her hands were still working on whatever she was creating absentmindedly, she missed the bell above the store's door ring, signaling a customer had walked in. The pink-haired stranger stared at the younger's back, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment, but she remained ignored. Heaving a sigh, she cleared her throat, startling the dark-haired girl, who placed whatever she was working on onto the workbench that sat behind the counter.
"Ah, shit!" Tatum cursed under her breath, pulling her goggles off and letting them rest on her head again. "Uh, welcome to Morgan's Mechanics, what can I do for ya?" She greeted, slightly embarrassed that the older woman managed to catch her off guard. Tatum looked the newcomer up and down, noticing the lady's clothes weren't something usually worn around these parts, along with the pink hair she had; the color a mix of fruit punch and hot pink. Her eyes, plagued with dark circles, were green, with a stern look in them that said she shouldn't be messed with.
"I need my ship repaired, heard that y'all are the best at that kind of thing," The lady says, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Ah, yeah... Hold on, let me get my boss," Tatum said, turning around and opening the back door that led to Morgan's office.
"Oh, Morgan~" Tatum calls all sing-song, making the black-haired woman look up from whatever she was doing.
"Yes, Tatum?" Morgan replies, resisting the urge to sigh.
“We got a customer. She needs her ship repaired. I haven't asked for details yet, but I assume you'd prefer to do that," She reports, making Morgan sigh this time.
"Yeah, yeah," She muttered, getting up and following the younger girl to the front of the shop.
This time, a new face joined the pink-haired woman, a blonde boy around Tatum's age, with bright blue eyes and freckles. He was quietly talking to the older woman before noticing the two other people who entered. "So, I heard you need a ship repaired. You came to the right place," Morgan said, leaning on the counter. "Now, before I can give you a price estimate, I need to see the damage." She adds.
"We landed a bit away from town. I can take you there. I don't know if my ship can get any closer without bursting into flames," The pink-haired lady said, making Morgan nod.
"Alright, Tatum, you're in charge while I'm gone," Morgan says, earning an affirming hum from the younger.
"Be careful, boss," Tatum says as she pats the black-haired woman's arm, watching the two older women leave the shop.
Leaving both Tatum and the blonde boy. "... Name's Tatum, you?" She introduced.
"I'm Esra. Nice to meet you," He replies, eyes roving over the many trinkets that the shop holds.
"Who's Pinkie?" Tatum asks.
"Her name's Althea. What's your boss's name?" Esra answers and asks, glancing over at her.
"Her name's outside on the sign," Tatum smirks, leaning on the counter, reminiscent of Morgan.
Esra silently examined her, her skin was a warm tan due to the climate of Oriann, and her dark-brown hair was done in two braids, with her goggles pressing down on her soft but blunt bangs, and from underneath them, he could faintly make out a scar that cut through her eyebrow, her hands were clad in gloves, matching with her beige overalls and dark shirt. They both ignored the slight pink flush on his face.
After a little while, the two women returned. "How much?" Tatum asks Morgan, who steps behind the counter again.
"About 400 credits," Morgan answers.
"And what's the extent of damages?" She asks again, making Morgan glance over at her.
"Enough that if they were to move it, the chance of it not exploding is 40/60," She answers, making Tatum nod.
Althea and Esra were talking to each other quietly, working out a plan on where they were to stay while the ship got fixed up. "When do we start?" Tatum asks one more time.
"As soon as possible," Morgan answers, grabbing her toolbox from a shelf behind the counter. Tatum nods again, picking up her rucksack and her own toolbox from the workbench she was at previously.
【🌟】
"Inquisitor Echo!" The voice masked by the modulator brought the boy out of his thoughts; the slight tilt of his head was the only indicator he was listening. "We have orders from the Grand Inquisitor," The trooper reports, and with the silence they received, they took it as an order to continue. "They briefly caught a heavy Force signature on a small planet, our orders are to investigate, sir," The trooper says, the black mask finally turned to look at them.
"What is the planet?" Inquisitor Echo questions.
"A desert planet, sir. Oriann"