- Joined
- Mar 3, 2015
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Velmor
Years had passed since the bombing of the Jedi Temple on Tython by a small, but skilled group of traitors. Among them was a genetic anomaly of a Togrutan, Vera Rosh. After the bombing, she spoke to the others, particularly Cassus, claiming she had unfinished business on Shili, and would meet with him later.
None of them ever saw, nor heard from Vera ever again.
No records show of any ship of the description she owned ever going anywhere near Shili. The records of the ship even show that it was sold right after the events on Tython, for an extremely low price. The seller left no contact information, and left a fake name that has not appeared again throughout the Galaxy. Many people, friends and enemies, searched for her for some time, seeking out the multicolored Togrutan, to no avail.
It was as if she had dropped off the face of the Galaxy. She was not with those she betrayed, nor was she with the enemy that benefitted from such a betrayal, nor was she even with those that she worked with during the bombing. She was nowhere, and any trails to track her down went cold.
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In all reality, Vera of course didn't disappear. The name did, and everything linked to her was either sold or abandoned. She simply went into hiding. But of course, if she was in hiding, why would she cut contact with everyone, including those she still considered allies?
Naturally it wasn't as simple as that. She regretted her actions and beliefs almost immediately. How could she possibly live with herself after helping end so many lives? It was an issue she was forced to live with for the rest of her days. But what did happen to her? Where did she go?
She went to Velmor.
She ditched her tribal clothes and way of life, and adapted. Donning modern clothes and a modern lifestyle, she rented an apartment in the middle-class section of a city, taking a job as a worker at a nearby spaceport. One would believe she would be quite content living out her days like this, right? After all, she got away from all her issues and found another life under a new name. Of course, she wasn't, life dragged on like this, even as she didn't want it to.
Her persona was a bland one. A woman from Shili who lived there all her life, and spoke with a heavy accent. She moved offworld for better jobs, and came to Velmor for the job offer. Of course, none of it was true, and the fact that she received the job was entirely based on her manipulation through the force. It was one of the last times she tapped into the mystical power she was born with.
She now wore standard clothes, brown pants and brown boots of high quality make, a white undershirt and a deep blue coat that hung down to almost her knees, and a standard satchel that carried everything else she needed. She fit it now, in a crowd she stood out only as much as a Togrutan normally did. If someone looking for her was going after every Togrutan, they'd be having enough trouble already, so she didn't worry about that.
This was how she spent her life, either at work, at home on the holonet, or drinking at a nearby bar called the Bantha's Mead. It was run by a Togrutan girl who was sweet on Vera, a woman named Sevira. She listened to every dull word that passed from Vera's lips, hanging on every syllable as she loosened her lips with alcohol, and got details of who she was from careful persuasion.
She didn't sleep well. Many nights she simply lay in bed, trying to sleep, but her restless mind wouldn't let her. Some nights, when the restless thoughts were especially bad, she lay in warm showers and cried until the water ran cold. She was not fulfilled in life, and it showed.
The one item she had kept from her previous life was her lightsaber- sort of. She had deconstructed it, stripped it down to its most basic components, put them in a safe, and lost the key. She tried to lose the safe too, but that proved to be too difficult.
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It was another day.
Things were going well, no major issues as the hours went on. People came by, she verified their information and logged them and they went on their way. Faces blurred together, names and voices mixed and stirred into a slurry that her mind could no longer recognize. It was long, tedious work, but it paid the bills, and it kept her safe.
Her coworkers besides her and in other booths talked among each other through headsets, talking about the job, the day, and what they planned to do when both ended. Listening to the idle conversation soothed her, even if it did occasionally turn to her.
"Five credits says Yari goes to visit her girlfriend at the Bantha's Mead after work again." That was her. Yari was her new name, it was her new life. She didn't correct the man, didn't feel a need to. They were free to make rumors about her life, better than rumors circulating about her old one.
For someone who moved on to an old life.... She was awfully obsessed with her old one.
@Megilwen