01. The Daily Occurrences

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The suns were blazing as they always did upon the sand, gracing them with the warmth they held beneath the surface. The dome-shaped homes and huts made of clay absorbed their rays without complaint and kept the coarse grains from flying through them. The only noise that could be heard in the distance was the commotion of the Mos Eisley cantina, filled to the brim with all sorts of species wishing for a fun time. If today was a lucky day, someone would get shot in the face after being outed as a cheater in Sabacc. 

Oh, how normal it was to do such a thing on Tatooine without anyone batting an eye. Tatooine was often ignored by the New Republic, as the entirety of the Outer Rim was, due to its high-risk environment. They knew what crimes were occurring. Why bother policing the un-policeable? They would rather observe from the space above than set food on the barren soil of the lands.

Away from the ruckus of crime, Annalisa's house lied far from the center of Mos Eisley, a half hour walk from the Spaceport to be precise. It was hot and humid, windows that were basically craters without glass to welcome some sort of air flow into the home. The kitchen sat quiet in the dawn of morning. Everything was as clean as it could be, given the environment. An IG droid stood tall on a makeshift rod attached to a tread with a wooden broom clutched in its metal two-pronged hand. Robotically, and expectedly, it brushed the warm floor side to side, ridding it of those pesky grains. 

The droid was obviously not in the shape it should have been. IG droids were made to be assassins, programmed mercenaries built to kill and capture bounties. This one had no legs as its torso sat on its metal pole, carved out from the inside to make it possible. Its torso ended at its computer interface port, which was still intact. There were no ammo cartridges strapped to its chest, but its paralysis cords remained intact within its pair of lanky metal arms. Atop of all its machinery sat its head, undamaged in that odd cone-shaped form it had, with multiple red dots of optical sensors and one telescopic sensor that could swivel a full 360 degrees.

"I h-h-have finished. It is your turn, R-R-R6." The droid's voice came through with crackles and glitches, a result of its junkyard origins. 

An R6 droid, painted white and orange with some wear and tear around its sides, rolled up from one of the three rooms the house had. It collided with a half-open metallic box, a dustpan. Using its three wheels, it pushed the dustpan towards the IG droid, patiently waiting for it to brush aside the dust and sand it had collected. The small R6 droid only had one optical sensor, a big one sat in the middle of its hemispherical and squared head that could swivel just as the IG droid could. Of course, this droid was in a better condition—it was a droid that had been passed down through generations.

It had chirped in glee as it worked, something it observed from the humans it constantly interacted with.

Down the stairs, in a room below the surface, Annalisa awoke in her room as she did everyday, stretching only to a certain spot in the air as to not hit the ceiling. White walls of hardened sand surrounded her, curved and cured to fit in harmony with the underground facilities in town. A few metal dressers and cabinets had a spot here and there, a wooden vanity right beside the entrance held a big mirror that reflected the entire room. There were no windows; a lamp on the vanity was all the light she would get. Her bed frame made of metal kept her cool at night, a key stable in the heat wave that washed over Tatooine so often.

Most of Annalisa's belongings came from her previous home on Naboo, markets on Coruscant, or were handmade by herself or a family member. She owned two hard-shelled storage bins that were stowed away in the far back of her room beside a dresser. Annalisa couldn't let things go as easily as she was told to. Her father's name was engraved into the side of her bed frame. The name Keiran was as clear as the sky became at night, a name so perfectly indented into the metal that it would take too long to smudge. As far as for her toys and trinkets from her youth, well, those were in those bins.

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