A Life of Mere Fragments [collaborative for everyone, please read]

[Neive Undant]

The sound of footsteps approaching

[Darth Fett]

Recap:

Swallowing stale night air, she strolled through a field of iridescent flora smuggled from Felucia. Illegal. Immoral. But it looked like an enormous, immersive neon holovid. Her jacket bore the insignia of her mother's fighter unit: old, but not forgotten yet.

Small puddles flooded each footprint, little drops splashed all around and spread her tears over the communicator in her hands. Pop, fizzle, each drop sizzled to the land of eternity. The atmosphere thundered, imperial bombers soared overhead, searching for her. She'd have been dead hours ago if it wasn't for the trooper's hesitant, misplaced mercy. Now, she had to move before kathhounds discovered his flesh.

The scent jogged memories of acrid tannoids, chemicals & associations she'd cherish after she avenged her beloved fiancé, murdered yesterday by the scoundrel known as Milhouse.

But for now, she had to act quickly, before anyone caught her. Transports and spotlights passed over, narrowly missing her and illuminating armor-clad search parties.

"Find her!" shouted a commander, a tremor wavering his voice. He recalls her skill with her sharp tongue. It cut through the stilted, dogmatic propriety of Imperial propaganda.

She dove headfirst into the reservoir, masking her presence from the armed sentry watchtowers.

Maeve Starkhaven, named for the humble farmer who raised her when her mother was off defending the Republic. The very Republic that'd devolved into a cesspit of Imperialism.
Decimating Commerce Guild forces hadn't helped her home's ambiance.

Once peaceful, now enveloped in the wreckage of innocence lost. Maeve wore her mother's insignia, wings sprouting from a cargo-pod.

Maeve pulled herself from the deceptively serene waters, pooling along the repurposed droid control complex. The passcodes she stole were older, but still checked out.

The uncared for door creaked and opened slowly, lights flickering amidst the unmistaken sound of air rushing, the room gasping. She took a hesitant step into the facility, unsure of her footing for the first few moments. She saw, up ahead slouched deadeyed, presumably deactivated Sal droid. His body rusted. It bore the designation M0-1ST.

Maeve's stubborn boot sloshed, clunked, ahead. Her eyes desperately searching for a hiding spot. Finally, a respite. A rusted crawlway she forced open and squeezed herself into the space. As crippling pain spiraled up her right leg, she remembered the cruel injury her mother bore.

The sound of footsteps approaching...

[Darth Fett]

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