Crossroads

Risk

When I walked to my shifts at the pub, I always thought back over the past few years... and beyond that. I thought about my time at the Temple, the training I had received that made me feel like I belonged somewhere. I don't have many memories from my early years, and my earliest memories were at the Temple. 

I was never told where I came from, or who my birth parents were. Master Yoda in particular was very coy and cagey when it came to my past.  As I got older, I began to ask more questions about my origins-- who I was, where I had come from. No one had ever answered me. 

Though, it makes sense why they had kept me in the Temple, hidden, all those years, unable to train with a Master. 

A raindrop fell onto my nose, jostling me out of my thoughts. It was starting to rain. Surprise, surprise. It rained here every few days, and it always made the leaves and ground outside and inside my cave soaking wet. I almost have tripped a few times, smacking face-first into the sloppy mud. 

I almost reached back to pull my hood up, the hood that was no longer there, hadn't been there for years. It was ingrained in me, and even after all this time, it was hard to shake it from my system. The village appeared before me. It was nothing compred to the sprawling city of Courscant that I grew up in.  It was small, with a dirt/mud road that ran through it. The buildings were taller than I orginally thought when I came here. It had looked small, uncivilzed when I first arrived. It grew on me after a while-- the size of the buildings were as large as the ones on Tattooine. Of course, I had only been there once for a small mission, but it was the only thing I could think of in comparison. 

The buildings were made of sturdy rock with tarps acting as awnings over some shops and houses. The village held maybe one-hundred people, but many travelers passed through.  They never stayed long, but it was clear that if someone didn't want to draw attention to themselves, they would stay for a day or two and get out of town. 

The rain started to come down harder, with the thicker drops, by the time I walked into teh pub. It was dimly lit, with a few lamps and overhead lights casting meager light over the place. The bar was in center of the pub, a full circle of liquors and juices from may different planets. Small tables were scattered around-- only a few were occupied by lone patrons. I slid behind the bar and dropped my bag underneath the counter. It held my comlink, a small mirror that was badly cracked, and a few hairties I had traded for at the market. I pulled out the mirror, trying to gleam what my appearance looked like through the cracked glass.  

I hadn't exactly grown beautiful in the last few years. I was barely twenty when this started; now, I was twenty-three, supposed to be working as a Jedi Master at the Temple, leading squadrons of Clones to keep the peace across the galaxy, training younglings. Hell, I could even have a padawan of my own. But it was all a dream compared to my reality now. 

Before this, I had been pretty. I was taught to never be vain as a Jedi, but I could call myself objectively pretty once. I had this long. luscious caramel hair that ran down my back. I usually had it pulled back into double-braids when I was at the Temple. My hair was dying on the ends now-- I had chopped some of it off a few months ago-- it was brittle and dying from my less-than-stellar living situation, lack of sleep, and my lack of nutrition. It now hung below my shoulders, but the goregous, shiny caramel hair that I had once flung around while I trained was dull. 

My eyes, once piercing green, had dulled. They had morphed into a grey-ish, greenish color. My eyes looked hopeless, exhuasted. I guess that's what happens when one is hunted mercilessly for just existing. I had always been toned, strong, at the Temple. Keeping a fit mind and body was just one element of being a strong Jedi. I had trained for so long to keep my body in peak condition. My legs and arms were toned and strong, my skin a goregous golden, tan. Now, I was thin and not lean or muscular. Even my face looked sunken and pale.  My skin no longer glowed. My face, once oval-shaped and healthy, was almost gaunt.

I was no longer the confident woman I once was. 

"Excuse me?" I slammed the mirrior back into my bag, jumping up to see a Trooper standing in front of me.  

I smoothed down my hair, trying to look a little more put together. "What can I get for you?" 

"Cup of Jawa Juice." His automatic voice replied. I turned and filled a cup for him, sliding it across the bar. 

He slid a few credits across to me, nodded, and walked back to a table in the corner where four Troopers were gathered. 

The rest of the night passed fairly slowly.  Very few customers came in, probably from the rain. The Troopers stayed at their table, talking quietly and coming up for a few refills. 

I wiped down the table for the hundredth time as another Trooper approached for a refill. He left credits and walked back. Before I could grab the credits, the door to the pub creaked open. In walked a child. I hadn't seen many children here, just a few here and there. But not a human child. She was small, maybe six -years-old, with bright blue eyes and matted, dirty hair. I couldn't tell if it was brown or blonde, the dirt clung to it so bad. 

Her clothes were tattered rags and hung loosley around her small body. She approached the bar, the top of her heard barely peeking over the counter. 

"Hi, sweetie. What are you doing here alone?" There was no parent who followed, no one who appeared to be looking after her. A sense of dread washed over me.  This girl reminded me of me, though I didn't know for sure. I knew very little about my past, but I bet I was haggard and meager just like this girl before I wound up with the Jedi. 

"Can I have some water?" She asked.  Her eyes shone with exhuastion, and it defintely looked as if this girl did not have a home. 

I turned to grab a glass, and within that split second, I could feel the weight of the Force drop down on me. I sensed it before I saw it-- the girl, grabbing the credits that sat on the counter, and running toward the door. I flung around as she scampered toward the exit. 

"Hey! Drop those!" The Trooper who had paid for that drink had noticed the girl dashing away. When she didn't stop, he pulled out his blaster. The other Troopers followed suit-- one of them fired toward the girl. 

In a split second, I saw that little girl, that desperate little girl, dead. Gone. Any hope of a future snuffed out by the Empire. Without thinking, I reached out my hand underneath the bar and shoved the bullet away. It narrowly missed her shoulder, hitting the wall behind her. 

Many of the othr customers looked up due to the commotion. The girl looked at me, her eyes wide, and gave me a small smile before she fled into the rain. 

She had known. Somehow, someway, she had known I was the one who had saved her.

But what I had just done was a huge risk, I could have just forced myself out of hiding, outing my identity.  

The Troopers holstered their weapons and sat back down, though one of them still looked at me. No doubt he was wondering how his shot had missed the girl that badly. 

There was no doubt in my mind that I had just put myself in danger. After tonight, I would have to pack up and get out of here. Where I would go, I have no idea. But it was time to leave.