You Don't Own Me: A Pathway to the Stars

[Asteria Sigini]

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Theme

Ghost. That was the name of the game, the game Cas and Siggy used to play as children. Back then, the rules were simple enough; go unnoticed, walk unseen, get to the 'safe zone' without being spotted. When they were children, it all seemed so easy. Duck behind some curtains, crawl underneath the hallway rug. If you wanted to be especially sneaky, you can bet bedsheets were used as the ultimate ghostly cover. But things were different now. Cas wasn't around anymore, and Siggy was no longer a child of nine years. She was a young woman, one with statuesque charm and features. Going unnoticed was easier said than done.

Now, the heiress had to go against every instinct she had ever known. Instead of flaunting her luscious blonde locks, she kept them hidden, bundled under a sagging hood. Lavender eyes had to be cast downward, least their unusual shade be noticed by the wrong individuals. Imps were everywhere these days, spying for their accursed Empire. Whispers were collected and even the slightest of glances assessed; instead of dodging the servants, Siggy was now concealing herself from spies. From anyone who might recognise, from anyone who might blow her cover.

If her actions were discovered, her attempt at escape would be seen as treason. After all, one does not simply refuse a marriage arrangement, not when the husband to be serves under the Empire. Just thinking about it made the Hapan sick to her stomach. To be bound in matrimony, to a substandard human no less. There was no greater insult.

Naturally, Siggy opted to run, a choice which her mother surprisingly accepted. She was one and only heir, after all. The fate of the family fell to her; marriage to an Imp, a non-Hapan, was simply unacceptable. Theirs was an established house, one of impeccable pedigree. Better to die pure than live in stained submission.

So, here she was, hooded and garbed, ambling through a sea of otherwise unimportant faces. This time of day was busy for interstellar travel; the spaceport was nothing short of a hive. People were coming and going, making rest stops and catching the next chartered freight; Siggy simply focused on blending in, hard to do when all your life you've been told to stand out. She stepped evenly, trying he best to navigate the focusing layout. All she had to do was find the ship; the pilot would do the rest.​

@Malon
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[Greybok]

Greybok was not used to traveling this far into the interior of the galaxy. Where possible, he tried to remain in the Outer Rim Territories, which, even in the era of Sith rule, was still a haven for smugglers like himself. If he did have to travel, the Mid Rim was about as far as he was comfortable coming. He only ever really ventured into Inner Rim to visit Kashyyyk on Life Day, which was rapidly approaching, but some jobs necessitated going outside of his comfort zone.

He and 2B-83 were at the spaceport taking on supplies and, as usual, were bickering endlessly with one another. "If you would just get over yourself and rebuild my body, I could at least make myself more useful during times like these," Twobee was saying. "I'm useless to you as just a saucer-shaped head strapped to your shoulder, you know." Greybok gave a couple of low chuckles and then barked a simplistic response. "I'll have you know that I am fluent in several thousand forms of communication, you uneducated bipedal canine! And that makes me far more useful than you will ever be."

Greybok ignored her and continued to lift boxes up the loading ramp. He was restless, but this type of work kept his mind elsewhere and busy. Still, he had to admit, he would feel better when they were burning fuel and back in the safety of hyperspace. @Esther Nyx

OOC - sorry that took me so long!