Far from home. Nyx was so very far from home. How could this have happened? She'd never even been off-world before, and now (presumably) she was a whole star system away. The attack on her kinsmen had come out of nowhere. No one targets Kiffars, let alone on their own turf. Why was she taken? And what fate had befallen her family? She tried not to think about it, knowing it could only cause her more tears.
She, and others, had been forced into crates during travel. Four or five packed tightly inside, with barely any space to move. Best way to manage the cargo though as there was little incident during the journey. As expected, there were mournful groans and cries, pleas for freedom, but these must have been seasoned slavers because none, not a single one, were swayed to sympathy.
Nyx knew their type well, she’d heard her kinsmen talk of them, being that many were hired as enforcers and trackers. What a twist of fate, to run afoul of the very people her clan hunted. Maybe that’s why they’d be targeted. There were no other Kiffars here (that she knew of) apart from a few from her clan. Was this revenge for--
All thoughts ceased when the crate was suddenly hoisted up. Jostled left, then over to right before then abruptly tipping over to one side, none too gently either.
“Oi, oi! Watch that cargo.”
“Get a move on! We gotta ship ‘em tonight.”
The voices were numerous, some more recognizable than the others. Not a moment later, Nyx, along with the others, tumbled out of the crate and onto the floor of the warehouse. She was right. Surrounding them were the slavers, as well as smugglers of sorts. All of them though were armed, holding blasters at the ready should the ‘cargo’ become troublesome.
“Stand, stand. No funny business. Stand.” A Rhodian ordered.
Seems they were doing an inventory, checking numbers and their corresponding destinations. Two or three people were pulled here, one swapped with another there. Nyx, along with a few others were herded to the side. There was tension in the air, and with each passing moment, it grew thick. Seems there was a discrepancy of sorts, the numbers not quite adding up.
An irate Zabrak, holding up a datapad, was not happy. “Oi, you trying to pull something? You’re coming up short. There’s meant to be two shipments of spice, where’s the rest?”
@Song