Gentle Armor

Chapter 1 Life of a Fugitive

12 years later

Alissa laid under a starfighter as she repaired the hyperdrive of an A-wing starfighter. She had been working on this ship for about five hours now and was happy that once she was finished she could finally wrap up her share of work for the day. So with the last turn of her wrench, she stored her tools in her belt and rolled out from under the ship. Her face was slightly covered with grease and a few loose strands of hair that escaped her ponytail hung messily around her temples. A rag was also draped over her shoulder, its gray color stained with streaks of black.

Another day's work of trying to get by in the galaxy.

Since the end of the Clone Wars, and the battle of Yavin, she had been working as a mechanic for a small starport in Nevarro. The Rebel Alliance had disbanded, leaving all of its members to fend for themselves, and turned into a corrupt, less effective organization known now as the New Republic. Alissa didn't want to be a supporter for them so she left the Republic, which in turn made her wanted for treason by the Empire. It wasn't easy for her to leave since the Rebels had raised her and she didn't have anywhere else to go.

But she couldn't stay in a place that no longer stood for what was right.

"Hey, girl!" A male voice suddenly shouted, breaking Alissa out of her thoughts. She looked up to see her boss stand in front of her, his usual scowl spread across his face. "What do you think you're still doing here? I've got other workers to pay, so get a move on."

Alissa said nothing back and whipped her hands clean as she stood up to leave. She grabbed her bag off the floor beside her, then headed out the back door and onto the streets. Humans and aliens alike were all scattered everywhere, walking around or doing work of some sorts via negotiation or labor. As a haven for bounty hunters, it came as no surprise that people here were always up to something.

Definitely not the place the Empire would think to find a fugitive, Alissa thought smugly, proud that all this time she had been hiding directly under the Empire's nose. It hasn't been easy for her to avoid getting found, especially when she first left the Rebellion, but once she learned how to hide in plain sight it only became a matter of keeping her head down. Despite what many people think about the Empire no longer being around, she knew better than anyone that they were still lurking in the shadows. Otherwise, she wouldn't still have a bounty on her head.

As Alissa closed in on her home, she noticed a group of people standing nearby. It weird her out a little, especially when their gaze followed her as she walked past them, but she kept on going until she reached her apartment. It wasn't very big, but did have a second floor and short balcony connected to her bedroom. She headed inside, locking the door behind her, and sighed heavily as she flopped face first onto the couch. Her arms ached from spending almost a continuous eight hours of fixing ships. One would think that after four years she'd be used to it by now, but the multitude of different problems that she had to deal with always ended up wearing her out.

Just what is it those bounty hunters do to bang up their ships so much?

Alissa spent another five minutes on the couch before climbing up the short stairwell to her room to grab a fresh pair of clothes and walk into the bathroom. Her ponytail was released, allowing her light brown waves to fall slightly past her chest, and she shed her work clothes before turning on the shower. After washing off all the dirt and sweat, she towel dried her hair as best as possible and changed into a pair of loose leggings and a tank top.

She quickly headed back down stairs to the kitchen, eager to get some food in her stomach. Aside from her breakfast, she hasn't properly eaten all day. Sometimes the starport would get so busy that she would only be able to snack on the food she brought with her throughout her shift. And today was one of those days. As Alissa opened the door to her fridge, a frown spread across her face when she realized that she was running short on a couple of things. Guess I'll have to go on a supply run tomorrow. She didn't have a shift tomorrow, so she could head over to the stock market in the morning.