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[pluvian_penguin]

Gemril had spent enough time on Attrexia, and was ready to get back to the spaceport. Most people wouldn't call it a beautiful planet, she thought, but they'd be wrong. She'd grown up on a desert planet, and she was used to looking for beauty in little places, tucked away under rocks and between protective coatings of leaves and tree bark. Mirial had taught her to be observant and cautious. That had served her well on a great many other planets.

She'd stopped a little before noon, waiting out the worst of the day's heat under a makeshift shelter. A tarp and a walking stick could be two of the most valuable things in a desert - besides water, anyway, but she'd always been in the habit of carrying as much extra as she could manage. Having a speeder made that easy.

With the heat fading, and the shadows lengthening, she'd gotten to her feet and packed her things. Shaked some sand out of the tarp, folded it a few things, and wrapped the rest inside. Pack it up tidily and then she'd be on her way. From her vantage point on top of a cliff, she'd seen a scattered handful of ranches and isolated homes. She couldn't begin to imagine what the latter did for work, but the former was an obvious answer.

People underestimate what you can do on a planet like this, she thought to herself, brushing her fingers along her hairline to check if any of her hair had come out from under her scarf. Purple, like her eyes. It wasn't her most favourite colour, but she did like matching her outfits, when she wasn't working.

She wore her armour regardless. A simple metal chestplate and backplate, with matching shinguards, and padding for her joints. More than that, and she just started feeling heavy. Except her helmet, of course, which she adjusted over her head before getting on her speeder. It wasn't just the map and HUD that she needed, but the protection from the wind and sand. She liked going fast, and there was only so much she could do that without some kind of windscreen for her face.

It was the better part of two hours before she pulled off the road, following signage and tire tracks that pointed the way to one of the ranches she'd seen from the clifftop. Whether they'd seen her too, she had no idea.

She slowed as she came into view of the house, decelerating almost to walking speed by the time she was in shouting distance. People who lived in rural areas tended to be... jumpy and prepared for ill intent. When someone came out of the house, she raised one hand in a wave, cutting the speeder to an idle at the same time.

"Hello," she called. When no unfriendliness was immediately detected, she reached up to take her helmet off, squinting against the sudden light. She appreciated the dark transparisteel of her visor, but it did tend to make people think she was a little untrustworthy. They liked to be able to look in her eyes. "This road leads to Cayorte, doesn't it? I passed a sign about ten minutes ago that tried to send me down a side road. Thought my map might be out of date."

 

[xXCShepardXx]

IN A GALAXY

Mara Voss
Word count: 911

Farm life had never been part of Mara's grand plan. In fact, she would have been the first to scoff at the notion that she could find joy and fulfillment tending to the land and animals. Yet after the cataclysmic execution of Order 66, which had shattered the galaxy and sent those like her into hiding, Mara was left grappling with a lost purpose, driving her to reevaluate what truly mattered and where she could fit into this chaotic new reality. With her background in caring for others, it seemed only natural that she would take to nurturing the animals on the small farm that had become her refuge. There was a unique synergy in her relationship with them, and she often found that the Force aided her in these endeavors. However, she was acutely aware of the risks involved; any nearby beings with a sensitivity to the Force might detect her presence, potentially leading to complications she desperately wished to avoid.

The dawn of a new day broke like every other had before it—familiar, comforting, and yet filled with the impending tasks that lay ahead. The curtains in her small, makeshift bedroom were harshly drawn back, flooding the space with the soft glow of the rising sun. The sound of Wren's claws clicking against the wooden floorboards permeated the air, his bushy tail flailing against her bed as if to demonstrate his impatience for the day to begin. With a soft, reluctant grunt, Mara rolled to her side, embracing the last tendrils of sleep clinging to her. Finally, the call of responsibility pulled her from her warm cocoon of blankets, and she sat up, yawning profoundly.

"I'm up, I'm up," she grumbled, half-heartedly patting Wren’s snout as it nudged into her lap, rumbling in hunger. Laughter bubbled up within her. "You gotta let me get up if you want to eat, Wren."

Mara’s feet hit the cold floor, invigorating her senses and short-circuiting her lingering drowsiness. She navigated through her small farm home, a humble structure that took care of her needs as her wage for laboring on the land. A roof over her head and a modest allowance for food seemed simple, yet it was everything she required to remain unnoticed by the ever-watchful Empire. The fewer people who knew about her past and presence, the safer she would be.

Once the pair had finished breakfast, Mara dedicated the next half-hour to preparing for her workday. After hastily pulling on a pair of well-worn coveralls, she felt a sense of urgency wash over her—if she delayed any longer, Kallian would undoubtedly be irritated. Today’s primary goal was halter training the Ronto calves, who were due to leave for their new homes soon. This task had fallen to her after the original trainer could no longer handle the stress of the job. As the sun climbed higher into the sky, she would deftly utilize her connection to the Force, allowing her to soothe the nervous little creatures. The men around the farm could not fathom why the calves accepted her so readily; their explanations ranged from ‘some animal whisperer’ to sheer luck. By the time midday passed, she was confident the calves would be halter-trained well enough that even the other farmhands would find it easy.

“Damn good work, Mariah,” Kallian would say cheerily, patting her shoulder with a rare show of appreciation at her daily success. His praise was hard-earned, and it filled her with quiet pride. “Finish up with the stables and call it a day.”

“Thanks, Kallian,” she would reply, a faint smile creeping onto her lips as she watched him head toward the main farmhouse with a surprisingly light step, as if the satisfaction he took in her work relieved some of his burdens.

Mara entered the stables, breathing in the familiar, earthy scents of hay and livestock, when suddenly the distinctive sound of a sand speeder reverberated off the canyon walls, echoing through the rugged terrain. A feeling of apprehension wormed its way into her stomach as she furrowed her brows—she hadn’t seen anyone visit in quite some time. The mere thought of a new crew of outlaws prowling nearby stirred her anxieties, but thus far, they had left Kallian’s farm undisturbed.

When the sleek vehicle and its rider rounded the bend and came to a halt, Mara instinctively took a step back, Wren pressing close behind her, his own instincts kicking in. Ever the embodiment of warmth and friendliness, she greeted the stranger with a smile that belied her underlying concern. Wren wagged his lanky tail cautiously, mirroring her approach as he attempted to gauge the newcomer’s intentions.

“Hello,” she said lightly, keeping her smile afloat despite an edge of concern creeping into her tone. “If you’re looking for Cayorte City, it’s about twenty minutes that way.” She gestured vaguely down the canyon. “Just follow this road for about five miles until it forks to the left—you can’t miss it. Just a heads up, though—there’s a new gang lurking around here that seems to enjoy laying traps for unsuspecting travelers. Keep your wits about you.”

Her lips thinned as she voiced the warning; even without knowing the person’s name or intentions, she felt instinctively protective of those who ventured into the territory she now considered her own. The galaxy had turned dark, and Mara was determined to ensure that the dangers lurking in the shadows did not claim any more lives on her watch.

FAR FAR AWAY

 

[pluvian_penguin]

The woman in the yard looked nervous, but that was expected from anyone who wandered out on their own to meet a speeder. She had some kind of creature with her that looked like it could handle most people. Not that Gemril was all that nervous. Creatures tended to like her, or at least rarely leaped for her throat at a moment's notice. Except for those big cats, but she'd never liked them, and they seemed to be able to tell.

Still, the stranger smiled, so this would probably be fine, and then she could be on her way. Back to the spaceport and the business that she meant to have.

Right. Twenty minutes. She'd have time to stop for something to eat, and whatever supplies she needed to pick up before leaving the spaceport. Might be time to restock the military meals in the cargo bay of her ship. Not much of that stuff expired, but she liked to switch them out every few years.

"Five miles, fork to the left," she repeated. She was used to working with beings whose understanding of Basic was, well, basic. Repeating things was one of the easiest ways to make sure they understood each other.

Gemril flashed a grin at the warning, clearly not worried at all by the prospect of danger. She'd heard things like that before. And so far, none of it had been able to kill her. Mirialans weren't exactly known for their warlike nature, but she'd made a pretty good living for herself. People found it hard to kill her. That was a pretty good thing, she thought.

"I'm sure it'll turn out fine," she said confidently. "I've got my rifle." And a few other small weapons, but she knew better than to give away too much. Although, if this was an established problem... Her head tilted a little as she eyed up the farmhand, or whoever she was.

"How much of a problem? If you know someone who's willing to pay to fix it, I can handle things. Bounty hunting has been my trade for years." And new gangs tended to be easy to dissuade. Kill off half of them, and the other half would panic about the unexpected hardships of a life of crime, and go back to whatever seemed easier. Which was just about any job that didn't come with a risk of bleeding out in the desert. Miles from civilisation was a lonely place to die.

Her gaze swept across the yard and buildings, evaluating how much it was all worth. Not rich, by any means, but if it was serious? Communities liked to band together. Another three or four ranches as well-off as this one, and they'd be able to put together enough to cover her fee.

Truthfully, she could probably afford to do it on a discount. Her previous job was enough to cover all her expenses twice over. She could see what they could offer, and go from there. Lots of farming communities were low on cash, but there were always emergencies. And unlike a barn collapsing or a field burning, this was one that affected all of them. It was something they had incentive to handle.

Especially since she was probably the only person who cared enough to actually work with them. From what little she'd seen of the area, it shouldn't be hard to stake out the road near their common attack points, and snipe a few from a clifftop. Follow up with a few grenades or a scatter gun, and they'd be gone in no time.

 

[xXCShepardXx]

IN A GALAXY

Mara Voss
Word count: 825

Mara maintained her friendly smile, a charming curve that lingered on her lips, even as the stranger casually alluded to their weapon. It was nothing new for her to encounter someone armed; in these perilous lands, having some form of protection was not merely a choice, but a necessity. One could easily fall prey to the crude and malicious elements that lurked in the shadows. “I have no doubt you’ll do just fine in that case,” she agreed lightly, her voice carrying an air of ease while she tossed her hip out, shifting her weight gracefully to the opposite leg, embodying a relaxed confidence.

She continued, her tone casual yet tinged with a hint of seriousness, “It’s enough of a problem that not many places would readily welcome a stranger rolling through their gates. Many might shoot first and ask questions later.” Her brow furrowed slightly as she contemplated the implications of bounty hunting. A sense of caution washed over her; she was all too aware of the bounty that hung over her like a dark cloud, especially if someone were to catch wind of a Jedi living in hiding within their midst. “Oh, I don’t make those sorts of decisions around here, sorry,” she said, attempting to maintain her composure. “But Kallian might be open to hearing your offer if you’d like to speak with him?”

While speaking, Mara’s hand unconsciously slipped into the coarse fur of Wren, a soothing gesture for both him and herself. The brief rattling of feathers in reaction to their unexpected visitor—the bounty hunter—had set her nerves on edge. She took a moment to calm herself. “Kallian can be quite hardheaded, but surprisingly, he’s in a good mood for once. Now would probably be the best time to approach him if you’re looking to get hired.” Mara’s gaze shifted from the stranger to the farmhouse, where she had seen Kallian disappear moments earlier, the flutter of anticipation thickening in the air around them.

“I could perhaps accompany you to his house," she suggested, weighing her options carefully, "but honestly, I really should get to work on the stables before the suns set, so I couldn’t stay long. The Fathiers will need to be bedded down soon, and the Rontos are already showing signs of unease from the heat of the day.” With a tentative glance over her shoulder towards the direction of the stables, she turned back to the hunter, her decision looming in her mind like the deepening shadows of dusk. Would it be wise to guide this stranger towards Kallian, or could that lead to complications she dared not imagine? In this world of danger and uncertainty, every choice had the potential to alter the course of the day, if not her very life.

Mara could only imagine the world of hurt she would find herself in if this enigmatic stranger ever caught wind of her true identity. The mere thought sent a shiver down her spine, propelling her into an anxious whirlwind of scenarios where her carefully guarded secrets could be laid bare, exposing her to dangers she was desperate to avoid. With each passing moment, the weight of her concealed past pressed heavier on her shoulders, forcing her to consider various ways in which she could create distance between herself and this potentially perilous encounter.

In her mind, she weighed the options, contemplating her escape routes. Heading straight to the stables seemed the most prudent choice. There, surrounded by the familiar scent of hay and the gentle whickering of the Fathiers, she could find refuge and perhaps an opportunity to blend into the background. The notion of retreat was tempting, offering her a sanctuary from the uncertainties that loomed in the air like an ominous cloud.

But as much as she craved the safety of solitude, she couldn't deny the stranger the courtesy of her previous offer. After all, Mara had offered guidance to the main farmhouse, and taking that offer back outright felt rude and uncharacteristic for her. She pondered the chasm that lay between her desire to protect herself and the impulse to extend kindness to a fellow traveler. It was a tug-of-war between self-preservation and empathy, one that left her feeling torn.

Yet, deep down, amidst the turmoil of conflicting thoughts, a very small part of her sensed an unsettling truth: by engaging with this stranger, she might be sealing her fate in ways she couldn't yet comprehend. It felt akin to layering on a thick coating of wax, solidifying her connection to them in an irreversible way. With every decision Mara made at that moment, she felt the delicate strands of her destiny weaving tighter, and it left her both anxious and intrigued about the potential consequences that lay on the horizon. What was meant to be a simple encounter was transforming into a complex web of choices, each one leading her down a path she could no longer fully control.

FAR FAR AWAY

 

[pluvian_penguin]

It was no surprise to hear that many people in the area would shoot first and ask questions later. Gemril hadn't grown up on a place with any particular wariness towards strangers - to their detriment, sometimes, she thought - but she'd certainly met that type of person before. Bounty hunting tended to attract them. That was why she travelled in her armour. There were a lot of things it wouldn't be able to handle, in a fight, but it was good protection from a blaster bolt. So was the helmet.

Maybe it was just hubris, but she wasn't too worried about the people living here. The stranger had kept smiling even at the mention of a weapon, so she wasn't worried, either. Confident in the creature standing behind her? Gemril had seen people place faith in animals over sentient guards. Better senses, faster running, and couldn't be paid off. In most cases, they were right, she had to admit.

Though only a few moments later, the stranger clearly hit a sense of unease. From where, Gemril wasn't going to pretend to know. Unless this was a potential payday. People like that were usually in a more populated spot, but if two jobs had fallen into her lap by luck, she wasn't going to complain.

She could just hear her father suggesting, Maybe the Force guided you to this very place. But as much as she respected his connection to the invisible, she couldn't quite manage to feel that, herself. It was a speeder that had brought her here. Not some sort of mysticism.

At the mention of another name, she nodded, and swung her leg over the speeder to dismount.

"Sure thing. Is he the landowner?" Always good to have an idea of what she was dealing with. She doubted the stranger would tell her much about him. No, she was nervous now, and not likely to give Gemril any sort of usable information. But she'd done a cold read on potential employers before. Sensed trouble, a few times, and other times, sensed a chance to make more money. She had yet to figure out which way this conversation would go, but she was feeling pretty confident, from the outset.

To her surprise, the stranger said a little more about the male in question. Hardheaded, but in a good mood. She could capitalise on that. Play things a little soft, make him think that he was getting a good deal, word things carefully so that he wouldn't have any reason to get irritated and put his walls up. Yeah, it should be easy to handle.

She assumed he was in the farmhouse, from the way the other woman looked past her. And from the fact that she hadn't heard the door or window open, and that anyone would have given some sign in their expression, if their boss had just lined up a blaster shot.

"I should be able to work things out with him on my own," she said confidently. "As long as he's got some idea of where the bandits are coming from?" If not, then she'd have to go somewhere else. To the stables, maybe, to try to dig into this woman a little more. Or somewhere else entirely, if she had to. Planning was a crucial element of jobs like this.

And keeping a straight face was crucial to staying on the run. There was something odd about this woman. She seemed to be getting more conflicted and wary as the conversation went on. People typically got nervous around bounty hunters for one of two reasons. Because they were on the run, or because they were scared of people who made a trade in violence. Considering the general lack of reaction to the rifle across the back of the speeder, Gemril was pretty sure she could guess which one.

Human, female, pale skin, black hair, brown eyes. It wasn't much of a description to go on, but she could check that information against the guild's database, when she got back to her ship.

"My name's Gemril Avantar," she introduced herself, though she didn't hold a hand out to shake. Getting a name could make searching that much faster. If it was a real one, anyway. "Have you and Kallian been at the ranch long? Got a good idea of the area?"