Before - Legends Moon Station - A Star Wars Short Story

Two lives entwine in mystery - Moon Station: A Star Wars Short Story - Roni toils down in the mining sector. The work is rough, the hours are long, and the soup stinks. Welcome to the Moon Station...

STAR WARS

Moon Station


Chapter I
​

The old man woke to the clang of coins hitting his bowl. He blinked through the buzzing white light to see the lips of a woman, wrinkled in the corners, curl to a sly smile. His eyes followed another coin falling into his bowl. The woman thanked him as one would thank a street performer, and waved her hand to an entourage of three men who brushed past laden with baggage. Dapupjinn came to enough to stand, not without stumbling back against the wall. He wrenched himself up to watch the party pass down the hallway. Now that he was standing he noticed another figure amongst them, eclipsed by the bags. A young man, short and narrow shouldered, following behind the woman as a broken speeder follows a tow shuttle. Dapupjinn puffed up his chest, outstretched his arm, and with one hand on his heart proclaimed, "…and may the force be with you". He heard the woman force a laugh from her nose as they reached the turbo lift. Dapupjinn swivelled on one foot, and bowed low to an imaginary audience, before setting himself back down on his mat, by his bowl. He was glad to have woke, if not for the chance of mocking an off-worlder, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he hadn’t. He had chosen this hallway for the lulling hum that whirred from the maintenance rooms near by. It always shuttled him to sleep, where he could be Emperor of infinite space. In waking space he kept to the hallways as much as he was allowed, before being moved along by the authorities, where he would then find another hallway, or plant his mat and bowl by one of the vendors, until they called the authorities. You could always tell how many times a vagrant had been ‘moved along’ on this moon by how many fingers they had left. Many had their eyes beaten to Jawa juice, and kept their hoods pulled low. Others had their clothes stripped from them, and lay naked under the stark lights of the shuttle bays, with no mat nor bowl to comfort them. Dapupjinn had been kicked about a bit, but was spared most indignities that befell the others. Was it that he had the frame of a frail old man, that reminded the more pensive patrolman of their fathers back home? Or that the guards perceived in his jolly features a jovial spirit that couldn’t possibly do any harm? Or was it his bumbling bearing, how he plodded down the halls with his mat and bowl under arm, mumbling utterances to the walls and greeting the suction bins therein? No. It was because of the weapon that hung from his hip. The legendary silhouette of a Lightsaber. A rare and strange weapon. His Lightsaber was plain, a stock hilt. Black and grey. With a big red button that said ON for the ignition. The initiated would recognise this to be a mere training sabre. No less powerful a blade, but none of the nuance that makes a masters weapon, as a musician seeks the supple instrument. They would sneer at this hilt with mockery and confusion. They’d first in vein contempt consider the wielder an amateur, then be cast back to the dojo of their training days, and wonder how they ever managed to learn with so little, as one does remembering their first computer terminal. And then they would remember that such a sabre would never be seen outside the dojo, nor would be carried by any Jedi, as all christened Jedi craft their own. It is the apogee of ones becoming. The completion of their training. So they would then conclude that the wielder either stole it, or more likely, bought it off a black market, in some part of the galaxy where Republic credits flowed freer than on this damned Moon. Yes some far away city where neon signs give way to black alleys, where hooded figures do dealings in the dark. Where tall buildings cast shadows across the others and make a maze of the sky for flying patrols. To the uninitiated, a Lightsaber was a strange and suspicious thing to carry, and upset the stomach of the most stoic guard. This Lightsaber was no different. No guard nor bounty hunter nor cautious diplomat of this age would choose a baton over a blaster, and yet the Jedi, the storied warriors of old, are famed for wielding blades in battle. The mystery of how a Jedi can avoid being gunned down with nothing ranged to retaliate, was enough to stay a guards temper when dealing with Dapupjinn. He counted the coins in his bowl. ‘Just enough’ and ‘All in a days work’ he thought, sneering to himself. He hoisted himself off his mat, picked up his bowl and walked the few paces to the vendor he’d camped just outside of, to the annoyance of the operator, who first saw his posting up that morning on the camera feed. He slid his bowl into the compartment under the dispenser and perused the familiar menu panel; a garishly lit, pink and green grid of various soup flavours. The soup though, regardless of what you chose, always came out the same beige sludge that once dispensed, billowed an acrid sour stench into the hallway. Dapupjinn didn’t care, what was one smell to another. It was warm and edible. One of those things was a luxury for the likes of him, but to get both was to be one with the force, or so he imagined. He pondered on the menu, a little game that passed the time before clicking the little square that said Cosmopolitan. A lever tipped his bowl emptying it of the coins, which clanked and rattled down into a metal bin behind the wall. The bowl was set level and a nozzle lowered above it, pointing into the bowl. A gurgling build up boiled from somewhere behind the panel like a blocked pipe, followed by a nasally whine that grew louder and louder, rising higher and higher into the highest harmonics. He winced, and the machine gave a *CLICK* of relief, falling silent, as the familiar beige sludge plopped into his bowl. He took it back to his mat and sat down, resting his back to the wall. Dapupjinn stared into his soup for a long moment. It matched the colour of his roughed linen robe. His grey wool coat, frayed with use, matched the grey of the wall at his back, and the endless grey of the moons surface, which could be seen from the windows on the first level of the station. Especially around the Shuttle bays. The crater-kissed surface lay unspoiled, ancient dust unmoved by time coated the rocky plane, which stretched up into the endless void of space. Distant stars peered through the dark. They could be long dead. No one would know on this moon, suspended in slow orbit somewhere in the outer rim. The Moon hung over an odd planet. It appeared a gas giant by all measures yet legends persisted, especially among the lower level dwellers, of a garden, nestled somewhere on a rocky surface. Perhaps that is what brought Dapupjinn here. Many fly out to this station, seeking work and refuge. But few can leave. A shuttle off the moon is 20 times the price of passage coming in. Any vagrant would have to forego six months of soups to afford it. Dapupjinn had been able to make it two days without food before, but his eyes were bobbing like two grapes in a turbo lift. And his temples felt like a trash compactor. It would be quite impossible for him to save the coin. Not that he wanted to leave, he foraged for all his needs, and the station provided. He slurped up the last of the sludge and set his bowl down. Feeling thirsty after the salt-seaweed sensation of the soup, he got up and plodded down the hallway. This hallway was on the 3rd level down, the last commercial sector before transitioning to accommodation, and bordered the edge of the station. Dapupjinn turned right when he reached the end of the hallway, knowing that around the corner was the public toilets. Met with an identical grey hallway, under glare of buzzing white lights, he found the entrance to the toilets on his left. The door swept open as he approached and swept shut behind him. Another grey room. A wet room. The floor curved inwards to funnel all fluids to a central drain. Shower heads bordered the side walls and at the far end of the room was the toilet cubicles. He picked the one in the far corner he liked and closed the door behind him. He flushed the toilet and plunged his arms into the bowl, cupping his hands to catch the water, periodically bringing it to his mouth to drink. “Ahhh”he said aloud smacking his lips. He enjoyed the acoustics of this room, and often rounded his days off with a song. But tonight he hesitated, not out of embarrassment, he was past that, but out of intrigue. He heard the swoosh of the door slide open and close. Someone else had come in.

Dapupjinn ducked low and peered through the narrow strip of space between the door and the cubicle wall. He heard much fidgeting and rustling, and the dull thud of work boots track through the room. Then by chance he caught a glimpse. It was a young woman, as far as he could tell. Old enough to be working he thought but too young to be stuck on a station like this. She set her hefty duffel bag down and produced from her overalls a hydro-spanner, which she set to work jimmying a panel loose by the door. It clanged to the floor exposing a small maze of wires and switches. She fiddled with it for a bit until the light above the door fizzled out. She appeared visibly relieved by this and turned to the shower heads on the wall to her left. She then pulled from her duffel bag a bucket and set it under the middle most shower head, “They docked my water rations this month, my quarters are dry” She was seemingly talking to the walls. “It’s ok I sealed the door they’re not going to catch us”. The old man laughed at himself, not at all embarrassed. “…but they always keep the water running up here in the commercial sector. Saves face for the tourists I suppose.” The young woman brushed her brow as she squatted beside the bucket. “You gonna come out or what?” His cubicle door swung open and Dapupjinn appeared swinging with it, “Ah just a bit of fun, they don’t let my sort into any of the entertainments up here.” He proclaimed, in a rather rehearsed fashion. He could see now just how young the woman was, and he pitied her wasted youth. “What’s your name miss?” He gestured but the woman’s mouth was as sealed as the door. She kept him in the corner of her eye, catching a glimpse of his white beard and ragged robes, but blinked, when she caught herself lingering on the Lightsaber hanging from his hip. She turned her gaze down into her bucket and considered her words. “So you’re the one with the Lightsaber, I’ve heard of you. I see you lot with your mats and bowls up here but the guards tend to leave you alone, that right?” Her gaze did not leave the bucket now half way full. For the first time Dapupjinn fumbled a little, and felt almost ashamed at admitting his relative safety, “I don’t get it quite as bad, no.” She snapped her gaze onto his face, “ I should think not”, the words rushed from her mouth, “…They wouldn’t mess with a Jedi like you.” The old man, noticeably diminished, scoffed at the word. The girl blinked, and turned again to her bucket. “Well I’m just saying, if you really are, you know, then we could sure use a Jedi down in the lower levels. You think the guards are bad up here? Wait till you get closer to the mines. The further away they are from the lights of the shops and shuttle bays, the bolder they get.” She caught her reflection in the water; engine oil burns, nose rubbed raw, dry hair like hay. Her eyes sealed at the sight. A moment passed, she stood up, switched the shower off, and turned to Dapupjinn. “I’m Roni, I work in the mines, as you can probably tell”, she said gesturing to her dusty overalls. The old man, long vagrant, gave a solemn bow, a reaction that sprung from some well in his memory he’d left to evaporate. He had surprised himself. “You got a name?” She said coaxingly. He felt now like a clown on a stage before a dark hall of empty seats. “I go by many names up here. Some call me ‘Move along!’” He ruffed the accent, “…others call me ‘scum’ or ‘sleemo’.” She rolled her eyes half affectionately. “But the more sympathetic call me ‘Pup’, because I follow them around like a lost puppy, when I’m hungry”. She dropped the smirk from her face, she knew hunger too, and knew always that she was only one docked ration away from begging in the hallways. “Look I… I can’t spare any food right now old man, I’m really sorry”.

“Oh I do alright. In fact I ate very well today, got me some soup from the vendor”

“I thought I could smell it in the hallway coming through, but how’d you manage it?” She blurted in genuine amazement.

“Some off-worlder flaunting her wealth, dropped a pile of coins in my bowl. Her robes were rich in silks and cotton, and her face veiled in fine mesh. You should have seen the crowd she kept for company” He laughed to himself, but Roni seemed wary. “Hmm, sounds like an Owner. They always stir up trouble on the station, whenever they decide to grace us with their presence. My shift’ll be doubled I bet, and my rations halved. They’ll crack the whip you watch.” She heaved her bag over her shoulder and picked up her bucket. She waddled to the door and set the bucket down with a splash. “When the door opens could you check the hallway’s clear for me? They’re less likely to mess with you.” “Of course” he said with a curious smile, making his way to the door. She flicked a switch and the light returned. The door opened with a swoosh. The cold air of the hallway hit his face as he glanced from one end to the other. “All clear” he said rather quickly. Guards rarely patrolled this hallway after hours, keeping their numbers stocked for the lower levels, catching anyone out at curfew. Roni cradled the bucket by her belly and took a deep breath, “Well Pup, good luck out there. Oh and there’s a bounty out for Kyber crystals tomorrow so all the miners will be rushing like pod racers to the turbo lifts. The morning rush hour will be a stampede, I often enough trip over your lot as it is, so keep clear of the hallways”. Pup gave a reassuring smile, caring for others was a precious commodity on this moon, one stamped out by the patrols at every turn. “Don’t worry about me young maiden, I keep to the cubicles in the mornings, and would never draw the ire of my dearest donators, who often give generously on their way home from work.” They smiled and nodded to each other, and Roni turned left waddling down the hallway, quick and silent as one can with a bucket of water sloshing about, until she reached the turbo lift at the far end, disappearing behind the lift doors that slammed shut tight as a tomb. Pup retired in the opposite direction, right from the toilets, back down the hallway he’d come from. He turned the corner left and made his way down to the vendor half way down the hallway. He sat back down on his mat, by his bowl.

Chapter II​

Roni was left reeling in the lift. It had been a while since she talked to someone. None of the miners ever talked anymore, they just shuffled about between shifts, moving in one plodding mass, without identity. That’s what the work does to you. All the turbo lifts had slowed with use, and this one clanked about a bit on her descent into the lower levels. The accommodation sectors stretched from levels 3 to 8, making up most of the station, housing workers and refugees and tourists, of which were granted the most spacious rooms. Roni’s room was no bigger than the toilet cubical Pup had been hiding in, but she couldn’t wait to get back. It was safe, and it was home. As the lift rattled down its rails she was left pondering, ‘…maiden…’ she thought. He called me ‘maiden’. Indeed ‘maiden’ was rather old fashioned, but it reminded her, in that moment, of how her father used to call her Princess on their home world, when she was little. No matter how big she got nor how much she insisted on being a grown up, he’d always call her Princess. Well now she was grown up, and would give anything to be called Princess by her father. He was so far away. The turbo lift slowed to a halt, and came to the ground with a bump. LEVEL 8 said a tinny voice from behind the grate of the speaker. The doors opened to a dark grey hallway that stretched out before her, plunging into shadow, pierced intermittently by buzzing lights that blinked on and off. Waste littered the skirting and graffiti licked the walls. Symbols of every creed and curses of every tongue scratched up the hallway as far as there were rooms. She’d have to pass through to get to her quarters. This Turbo lift hadn’t been the most direct route, but she never liked doubling back on herself if she could help it. She walked through this narrow valley passing through shadow and flashing lights. Only the occasional moan or snore betrayed the life behind the doors. Shadow, light. Visible, hidden. She pressed on holding her bucket close, fixed on getting home. She reached the end of this hallway, got her bearings, and turned right into another long hallway. This one led to her quarters, and some of the markings on the walls, though vulgar and violent, were more familiar, and these flashing lights blinked in predictable intervals. C02187 read the panel above her door. She’d made it. She cradled the bucket carefully in one arm to reach into her overalls with the other. Producing her pass, she swiped the key-card down through the centre of the terminal and with a *CLICK* the door unlocked. Roni rushed through and slammed the door behind her. No swooshing doors down here in the accommodation sector. Were the station to suddenly depressurise for any reason, the workers would be sucked out into the vacuum of space, and written off as industrial accident. She placed the bucket on her corner shelf, and slumped onto her bed, keeping her knees to her chest as it wasn’t long enough to lie down, but stretched the length of the room. Her quarters were small, but the ceiling was high, reaching near twice her height. A single bulb hung from the centre, which she had painted over so the light beamed as blue as the skies of her home-world. A grace from the bleached white light of the station. Up there was various compartments for clean overalls, spare boots, and rations. Not that her rations could ever fill even one compartment if she starved for a year to save. But it was nice to keep the little she had off the ground, and tucked away from others. She reached up to the highest compartment, one she hadn’t opened since the day she unpacked. Today had been the first time she’d thought of her father in a long while. She hadn’t been thinking at all in fact, just passing from one spike of sudden consciousness to another, always lulling back into apathy induced exhaustion. It was all she could do to make it through a shift. This compartment came right out of the wall like a loose drawer and she set it down on the bed beside her. From it she lifted between her fingers a little silk shawl, all frills and finery, green as the forests of her childhood, and laced with lines and dots and dashes, her ancestral language. She held it before her, delicate as a pressed flower, and laid it to rest in the drawer again. She fitted the compartment back into the wall and nestled into her bed, pulling a rough blanket up over her face. She drifted to sleep with the word Princess on her lips.

Roni woke to rapid ringing needling her ear drums. It was the morning alarm spiking from grated speakers down the hall. Blood pooled in her temples and squeezed her skull. Her fists clenched tight to her hips. She blinked through the blur, knowing not to attempt to stand before stretching her legs, that had been cramped against her chest all night. She sat up, shook loose and zipped up her overalls. She lugged the bucket off the shelf and onto the floor, squatting over to drink from cupped hands. She used it to brush her teeth and dab her brow before placing it carefully back on the shelf. She faced her door and steeled herself for the shift ahead. Her mind bored down the mines tunnelling through the moon. She felt bodies brushing against her door, boots kicking heels scudding the skirting. A din of murmurs and mutterings, the odd “mornin’’ and “watch it!”. She’d have to push through. The door opened and she melted into the crowd like a leaf in a river. Turning right from her room she made her way through the tangle of arms to the toilets on this level, which were on her left. The door swiped open, she quickly clocked an empty stall on the far wall and went and locked herself in. Steam from the showers clogged the air, all the surfaces were damp with condensate. The floors squeaked and the walls echoed. She thought of Pup in his stall and smiled. She never usually ‘thought’ in the mornings. Just droned on through the ablutions to make it to the mines. No one here had any shame, too tired for that. No one held their bodies or modesty to any worth down here. By the time Roni finished the alarm had seized. She made her way out of the toilets turning left further down the hall that terminated in the turbo lift. The lifts this morning were lugging under the weight of the workers, packing themselves in over the limit in a race to the mines. The bounty was on today, and promised a bonus. Roni found herself stalled at the junction, packed between two men and more nudging behind, waiting for the lift to climb back up. *DING* The lift doors swept open revealing a small cavity no bigger than her quarters. They flooded in, taken by the current. She hit the back wall as more and more workers nudged themselves in. She had just enough time to turn around before they were all sucking in their belly’s as the last lot wedged themselves in. A woman closest to the door swiped her pass on the terminal. The 9 numbered panels floated to the screen and she selected 9, the Mining sector. The lift moaned and creaked as it sunk down the shaft as if the air were tar. Roni’s ribs were bending under the strain of her belly. She scrunched up her eyes until the lift landed. *DING* The lift sunk to a stop, clamping to the floor. The doors swiped open and the workers flew out. Roni remained frozen until the lift had emptied. She fixed her breathing, and swung her arms out from her sides and made her way out the lift. The lift opened to a broad level platform ceilinged by the bare grey rock of the moon. Flood lights pooled the platform with a white glare that glinted off the hats of the workers. Small crafts laden with boulders hovered past. Huge ducts syphoning moon dust from the mines filled large vats that loomed overhead. From the vats the dust was sifted for minerals and trace elements, with the draff compacted to cubes and shipped away on conveyor belts. Roni turned right from the lift and followed the railing down the platform, her footsteps were lost in a cacophonous echo that bounced about the cavern. Her refuge from the echo was an archway on her right that sheltered a small vestibule. She ducked under the shadow of the vestibule which opened into a communal hall down some steps. A canteen. A grid of tables four seats per installation made up the large room. Automated venders in the walls on the left coming in served a free caffeinated drink; an insipid brownish wash in a cup. But it was hot and kept you awake for the long shift ahead, so the hall was always popular first thing in the morning. There was no talk, no idle chatter. Just the din of nozzles funnelling fluid to cups, squeaking boots, the blowing of steam off the heads of hot drinks and slurping on sore lips. Workers shuffled in and out past her, she was invisible. They all were. She descended the steps and approached the vending wall, clicking the well worn button. A cup descended from a compartment in the wall and a nozzle filled it with the brown wash. Steam tickled her nose. She grabbed the cup and shuffled down the wall to the ration vendor, swiping her pass on the terminal. Her profile flashed on screen and the vendor dispensed the nutrient brick that would fix her until lunch break. Turning around she looked about the room. Faces blurred in the steam of their cups, hunched over, nibbling their nutrient bricks. She picked an empty table and sat down. With the rush of the bounty that morning, workers were scoffing their bricks and guzzling their cups, risking burns to get to the drills. But Roni paced herself, trying to start the day as any other, despite the buzz. The nutrient brick crumbled like wet sand in the mouth, granules lodged themselves between teeth and irritated gums. The brown wash was a relief. The tactic was to keep some left over before finishing the brick so you could rinse out your mouth. It was just enough to subdue her hunger pangs until the lunch break. Some workers trudged down the steps heaving and wheezing, treading dust through the canteen. The lucky ones swiped their passes at the ration vendor which dispensed for them a tall cup full of cool clean water. She got up to leave, walking across the canteen. She disposed of her cup in the suction bin by the entrance, to the left, and ascended the small stairs up into the arched vestibule. Plunging back into the echoing cavern under white light, Roni turned right and made her way to the end of the platform which transitioned into a low ceilinged cave. From this cave were two sloping tunnels, one on the left and the other directly ahead as you come in. This was her station. On her right was the drill rack. She swiped her pass on the terminal. Her profile flashed on screen, the thumbnail of a rosey cheeked young woman, wide eyed with a coy smile curling in the corners of her mouth. She did not recognise this woman. The terminal beeped authorising the use of a drill. Clamps unclamped, a blank bulb flashed green on the rack indicating her drill. She took it in hand, taking the strain of the machine, which when held, stuck into her right side, hooking the lower rib. The ‘drills’ had a flat square head that punched and pulled, punched and pulled, bludgeoning the rock. The sound in the tunnels was a swell of a thousand heart beats hitting the walls. A miners own heart could stop beating and they wouldn’t know it for the constant vibration in their chest, rattling their rib cage as the drill did its work. They’d end a shift with the beat in their brains and the buzzing in their wrists. Their own pulse lagging behind the echo of the drills. She turned to the tunnel entrance before her, the one that sloped down directly from the entrance to the cave, disappearing in the dark, when she heard the hefty shuffle of a heavy man march up from the tunnel to her left. She kept her head down as her foreman approached. “Oi, Girl!” He spluttered. His bulging red face greasy with sweat. This twitched her nose, “My name is Ro- “I know well enough who you are missy.” He puffed up his chest, “We were down here after your shift last night, assessing your progress. You’d only made it a metre. Management needs you working two metres a day from now on, at least.” “Bu-“, “Two metres girl or it’ll be your rations.” She had learned not to argue with her foreman, and turned her gaze to her boots, catching a second pair of boots behind the foreman. “Now, you’re gonna be training a new worker today. This is Zeander, he’ll be shadowing you until I think he’s fit to work on his own.” She’d rather have worked alone, but after meeting Pup the day before, she felt a little more open to people. “I didn’t know there was any vacancies”, “There isn’t, but a miner died yesterday leaving his work unfinished”, “Another cave in?”, "No he just fainted in the heat and never woke up.” He gestured to the far tunnel Roni would be drilling. “So show him the drill and make sure you meet quota. Now get going, your shift already started.” He swivelled on his heel turning a sharp right, flicking sweat into the air, and marched off out of the cave and away down the platform. What he’d left behind was a meek, narrow shouldered boy, a young man really, with a flop of hair on his head and a tuft of fuzz on his lip. He stood slanted, keeping his knees pressed together. Roni couldn’t help but smirk at his neatly pressed overalls. “Have you got your key-card yet? Well swipe your pass on the terminal and check out a drill.” He approached the rack and swiped his pass. He wrenched at the weight of it, his arms turned to wet noodles. "Careful! They’ll dock your rations if you break the equipment”. He didn’t appear bothered by this, but when Roni saw him struggling a pity swelled in her throat. Her mind bore back to her first day, an old man, thick skinned and sinewed limbed showed her how to hold the drill, how to keep it steady so the push back didn’t snap her arms, how to manage her rations so she’d have a spare nutrition brick in her quarters on a day off. With help down here in the mines she was less bewildered on the other levels, and quickly developed a wary wit of her own for when to use the toilets, how to push through a crowd, how to hold your breath in the turbo lifts, how to avoid the guards, how to jam a door and where to get water. She looked at the boy, hoping to kindle in him the same determination she was forced to muster on this moon. “I’m Roni, by the way”. His blue eyes twinkled like stars. It had been a while since she’d gazed out of the windows on the first level, into the longing deep of space. “I’m Zeander, I suppose you heard him say. And he’s our boss?”, “Yeah so we ought to get going, they like their punishments down here”. She gestured Zeander to follow behind as she lead him into the tunnel ahead. The one directly down from the cave entrance. It sloped in the dark. Moon dust kicked up about them tickling the hairs in their noses, and powdered their eyelashes. Roni flicked a switch on her drill sending a broad beam of white light bursting forth. Zeander could see the tunnel now. The Ceiling brushed his hair while the wall scraped his boots. The tunnel was just wide enough for them both to stand side by side in their descent. He fumbled for a switch on his drill but couldn’t find one. Roni lead them a ways down the tunnel, routinely striding down the slope while Zeander snagged on the wall to his left and tripped on rocks by his boots. A soft duct on the ground run the length of the tunnel that vacuumed moon dust from the drill sites up into the vats on the platform above. Zeander a little embarrassed lagged behind Roni as she pressed on, “What was with the rush this morning?” Roni replied keenly, anticipating a question, “Oh it’s just a fad. Every now and then a worker will strike lucky and find something precious like a Kyber crystal. Management confiscates it but the next day they’ll announce a bounty for Kyber crystals promising a bonus for any who finds one. No one ever does of course. But it gets them drilling. Best to keep mining the usual rock and not give hope to anything special.” Zeander wasn’t really listening, just asking a question served his purpose of filling the air. Roni’s light bounced off a wall before them fast approaching, and bloomed in the narrow space as they came to the end. The moon rock sparkled as though powered in star dust. “Ok stand on my left there and point your drill at the wall.” Zeander heaved his drill up and lodged it into a cranny in the rock, which took the weight off him. “Ok now keep your feet shoulder length apart, lift the drill with your legs and upper body and try to keep your body flush to the wall. When you feel ready, squeeze the triggers into your palms and start drilling”. He squeezed, the drill smacked the rock and snapped back into his chest knocking him to the floor. The drill clanked to the ground seeming to pin his right boot. Roni rushed to his aid reaching to help him up, “Ow! No no the drill, my foot!” She took the drill in both hands and heaved it up and over to one side. His boot had twisted sharply outwards. She sat down beside him, lifting his head to her lap. “I think my ankle might be broken”. She felt ashamed, gazing down into the blue eyes of the boy, crying and caked in moon dust. “I’m so sorry Zeander, I should have warned you more, the drills are awfully heavy aren’t they. Here if you think you can stand I’ll help you back up to the cave entrance and we’ll get you a stretcher craft to hover you to the medical bay. He nodded, wincing as she took his arm over her shoulder and hoisted him to his feet. They shuffled awkwardly up the shaft, twice the time it took to get them down. The light of the cave was approaching like the strip of a setting sun on the horizon. Roni coddled the creature, who was looking rather sorry for himself, “Look don’t worry about it, I’ll work both our shifts today so there’s no flak on you okay?”. He nodded again rather impishly. Their stride set level to the cave floor and a droid was dispatched to fetch a stretcher. Roni was secretly relieved the foreman wasn’t around to see them. A stretcher hovered forth, and she helped Zeander settle onto it, the stretcher bobbed a little as he lay down. She watched the stretcher disappear out the cave and down across the platform, past the canteen, past the elevator and straight on to the medical bay on the left. Turning back around to the black void of the tunnel entrance she realised she’d left their drills at the very end, and would have to make her way down in darkness. Then a hunger spiked in her gut as she realised she’d have to drill two meters into the rock, for two people, just to keep her rations. She’d have to forego her lunch break, but could double her rations at the end of the day. This kept her going. She plunged into the dark, keeping her hand to the wall on her right on the way. The sandy sensation of the dust sifting through her fingers swiftly became a powdered glass roughing the skin on her palms, stinging like salt in a scrape. She reached the end. Lugged up her drill and flicked the torch on. She set the flat drill bit to the wall and squeezed. Bu-Bum. Bu-Bum. Bu-Bum. The beat of the drill mocked her heart as it bludgeoned the rock. Bu-Bum. Bu-Bum. Bu-Bum. Bu-Bum. Bu-Bum. Billows of dust sat thick in the air, compacting on her skin on her clothes in her nostrils in her ears between her fingers down her boots between her toes. And the heat. The humid heat caked the dust. Sweat dripped from her nose to the floor, evaporated up and condensed on the roof, dripping back down on her head, tapping her brow *tap*. The tunnel was saturated with sweat now, her overalls damp and clammy against her skin *tap*. The bones of her wrists felt hollow under the strain of the drill *tap*. Many hours past. The moon progressed its orbit. The drill whirred as it powered down, rumbling as it was set on the ground. Silence befell the mine but not for Roni who was haunted in her mind by the ghost of the beating drill, pounding against the rock. She buried her brow in her sleeve. Her likeness in damp moon dust branded her arm. She took a moment to enjoy the cool pooling back into the tunnel before picking up her drill and making the climb back towards the cave entrance. Her knees ached on the ascent. She tried to focus on the dot of light in the distance, and not the fact that she’d have to come back down to fetch Zeanders drill and make the climb out again before clocking off. The hours blurred, the second trip identical to the first. She clicked Zeanders drill back into it’s dock on the rack. His profile briefly flashed on the terminal screen Zeander Kiln - Visa: Authorised for Mining duties - Accommodation level - Unspecified. Roni left the shadow of the cave and walked out onto the platform. She seemed to float down the way towards the canteen. She nestled under the archway on her left into the vestibule and descended the steps into the canteen. She got her cup and swiped her pass. The vendor dispensed two nutrient bricks. One for her missed lunch break, and the other her regular after shift meal. The hall was empty, everyone had long clocked off. She sat alone, as still as she could for the buzzing in her wrists. The cup shook and spilled as she brought it to her mouth, the steam stinging her lips. She set the cup on the table, chewing the cud of the nutrient brick as her head lilted to her chest. She blinked, raising her head from its nest in the crook of her arm. She looked at her rations. She’d drank the wash and eaten half the nutrient brick at some point, but there was no telling how much time had just passed. Straining her eyelids she got up determined to reach her room. She ascended the stairs into the vestibule and turned left onto the empty platform. The lights were off. The air was cool. She walked the length of the hallway alighting on the central platform with the turbo lift on her left. She staggered in, and swiped her pass on the terminal. Leaning against the wall of the lift the familiar 9 numbered panels floated to the screen. She selected 8 and the doors swept shut. LEVEL 8 announced the familiar voice. The lift felt light and swift with only her in it. The doors swept open revealing the final length of her journey. The length of the hallway before her. She passed the toilets on her right, walked aways still, and finally, finally, reached her door C02187. She swiped her pass for a final time that night, and fell into her room, kicking the door closed behind her and collapsing onto her bed.

Chapter III​

The force was with her that morning, it was her day off. She still woke to the morning alarm, but could stay scrunched up under her covers until it passed. She waited for the panicked shuffling and stomping on the other side of the door to settle before stirring herself awake. She ached. Her limbs fell dull and stiff beside her. Her joints knotted, tight like clenched fists. She sat up and blinked as her covers fell and the blue light beamed overhead. She had treaded moon mud into the room. A mixture of sweat and silt from the mines. Her overalls were caked in it, damp and dirty, as was her bed. Her first full thought that morning came with a wheezy cough and a heavy sigh, that she’d have to get her covers cleaned, and she’d have to pay for it. But that would have to be done on her next shift. Today she wanted to stretch and climb and reach out and touch her toes. Today was not a day for tinny alarms, tight tunnels or tiny rooms. The day was for breathing. She wanted most to see the stars, which meant a trip to the upper levels. She kicked off her boots and peeled off her overalls. Pulled her water bucket from the corner shelf and sat it on the floor. She drank from her hands, sifting the silt through her fingers as best she could. Washed the grey off her face and brushed her teeth. Her water was coagulating with moon muck now. A bucket of grey sludge like dust soup. Roni knew she’d have to sneak another trip to the public toilets on level 3. The image of Pup swinging from the stall door swam to mind. She dried her hands and fetched some clean overalls from her wall compartments, and a spare pair of boots. She threw some tools into her duffel bag and heaved it up onto her shoulders, picking up the bucket. Ready for the day she ventured into the hallway, shut the door behind her, and started left with a wide stride. She turned left again into the hallway that stretched to the turbo lift. Her bucket was no longer brimming so she could walk without risk of spills or trips. Reaching the lift, she set the bucket down and swiped her pass. The usual 9 numbered panels floated to the screen. She selected 3 and the doors swiped shut. Going up felt good after being down in the mines. The lift came to a stop and the doors swiped open. She walked a ways down the hallway and ducked into the public toilets on her right. Being mainly for show she wasn’t surprised to see it unoccupied, but still relieved. She emptied her bucket down a toilet on the far wall, the grey sludge slopped into the bowl. She then rinsed it out under a shower head on the wall to her right and began filling the bucket. As she waited she thought again of Pup. It would be nice to see a friendly face after her shift yesterday. With her bucket full of clean water she then stashed it in a stall on the far wall, rummaged her bag for the right tool, and jimmied the lock, jamming the door shut. Throwing her bag of tools over the door, her bucket and belongings were safe for the day. She could come and fetch them on her way back down. Leaving the room from the right, she followed the hallway down, keeping her eyes fixed ahead as the odd tourist passed by, or the odd nod as a a vagrant shuffled on. The hallway terminated in a left turn that stretched onto another long hallway that came to a turbo lift. She made the left turn and spotted an old vagabond on the ground, hooded and hunched over a bowl. She rushed up to the figure and yanked on his shoulder. The hood swivelled to her flashing a wet gummy grin in a wrinkly face. Roni lurched back, "S-sorry thought you were someone else". “I’m Jum!" He spat. Roni was already up and shuffling down to the turbo lift, passing an empty mat on the floor opposite a vendor on her left, trying to ignore the cackling laughter bouncing down the hall. Jum was once the most wanted bounty hunter in 12 systems. But his story is not told here. Roni reached the turbo lift and swiped her pass on the terminal. The 9 numbered panels floated to the screen, she selected 1 , locking eyes with Jum at the end of the hall as the doors closed shut.

The lift whirred, Roni sighed, shaking her head. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d made the trip to the upper levels. Her off days usually blurred together in a blinking sleep, a half stupor from fatigue. But as tired as she was today, she yearned to be above ground. Her eyes itched to be open. Though that might’ve been the moon dust. The lift alighted, she could feel a tingling under her feet as it set into place. First Floor proclaimed the familiar voice, and the doors curtained open. Beyond was a wide open space bustling with people. A courtyard lined with shops selling clay cast moons and miniature stations. On the far end was the shuttle bays where tourists poured from pressure-sealed containers, and packed in another. There were three shuttle bays, one to each wall on the far end which served as a platform before transitioning into the courtyard. But for all the fad and finery, there featured above a beauty of nature pure and unpretentious, undimmed by any flashy display. The courtyard was domed in clear bubbled glass from which the white light of far off stars beamed unhindered. Roni’s gaze fixed to the stars, the din of the crowd diminished in her mind and her imagination poured into the black reaches of space. A shuttle craft hovered overhead. The glass vibrated as the hull passed over, casting its shadow over the courtyard. From large windows too on the left wall of the courtyard stretched the surface of the moon like silver sand glistening in starlight. Her mind was pulled from its wanderings back to the room. On the far platform was another old man, ragged robed, dancing desperately by his mat, gasping for air, his face red as a blister ready to pop. Tourists stopped and clapped, whooped and cheered. His bowl remained empty. And there was Dapupjinn too, hanging around the left platform, his back to the room. He was relieving himself by the wall. Roni pushed through the crowd and approached, watching her step, “Hey, hey you!”. Pup turned smiling so wide his cheeks eclipsed his sight. He pulled up his old eyes by his bushy brows, “Ahh I wondered if you’d pay me a visit up here”. He reset his robe and jimmied his belt, “I too like to put on a show for the tourists”. He cackled obscenely loud, Roni felt prickly hot blood flush her cheeks, her wide eyes darted about the crowd. She shuffled closer to the window and gazed out. Dapupjinn picked up his bowl from the sill and gazed out with her. “Pretty barren don’t you think?” Roni was too busy watching the starlight glint off distant craters. Pup stirred again, “Nothing could thrive here you know, they just like these sorts of moons for their resources. Brings in the tourists too, no atmosphere is a novelty, and not many stations shuttle people out unless it’s workers.” Roni sighed, “There’s a sort of permanence to it, the whole surface looks like its frozen in carbonite.” Pup frowned, “Not if the company bores tunnels into every corner of this moon! They’ll be nothing left. Things can’t thrive here” He repeated didactically. Roni dragged her gaze from the stars and fixed into Dapupjinn’s eyes, “I can’t leave Pup, I can’t afford it. My only hope is to work until I can”. He smiled, “Ha!” He declared, “Help an old man to the turbo lift there’s a good girl”. She buckled under the weight of his arm on her shoulders as she shimmied awkwardly across the room. They waddled into the lift. A host of tourists tried to squeeze in but Pup lunged out his arm and tapped the door, “Sorry going down!”. The doors swiped shut. Roni smiled, Pup bowed, “Level 3 if you please”. She swiped her pass on the terminal, the 9 numbered panels floated to the screen, and she selected 3. Roni could tell Pup was looking at her on the descent, “What is it old man?” She jeered, the old man sighed. “You look awfully tired”. She eased a little, “They got me working double shifts now, I told you didn’t I. I just hope it’s only temporary. Any wages will outlast me at this rate.” The lift landed with a jolt, LEVEL 3 declared the voice. The doors swept open onto an empty hallway. Jum had since been ‘moved long’ by authorities. “Come on lets get you something to eat” Pup lead her down the hall to his mat opposite the vendor. He placed his bowl into the vendor compartment, reached into his coat pocket and produced a handful of coins which he placed in the bowl. Roni sat down on one end of the mat, which leant against the left wall of the hallway. Pup perused the panels on the pink and green menu. “Hmmm, how about ‘Cosmopolitan’ he laughed.” He pressed the panel and the platform tilted his bowl back sending the coins clattering into the bin behind the wall. The bowl was set level and the beige soup dispensed. Steaming bowl in hand he joined Roni on his mat, sitting opposite. “Ladies first” he laughed passing the bowl. She took it in both hands. It smelt awful, but it was hot, and more importantly, free. She drew the bowl to her lips and took a long sip. “Thank you” she said earnestly, for not much charity passed around the lower levels, and anything she had was paid for with hours of her life. Though the vagabonds up here seemed to be doing alright. Pup took the bowl in his hands and slurped, smacking his lips, “Mmmm. Hmm? Oh think nothing of it, big haul of tourists come in today, I did quite well all things considered.” He tapped his breast pocked that still clanked with coins. It was not a familiar sound to Roni. All her wages were a number on a screen. And not a very large number. But she was curious, “Pup, why are you here?”. He passed the bowl back, hesitating somewhat, “Oh, well I’ve spent the last few years hopping from station to station, when I can you know.” She couldn’t see how this was possible, but knew better than to say aloud that he lived, and looked, poor. Besides he certainly ate better than her. He continued, “But truth be told this life rather suits me.” He caged his hands together. “But I’m old. What about you, what do you dream of being when you get off this moon?” Roni was suddenly stunted by the question, realising she hadn’t actually thought about it in a while, nor thinking about anything really. “Well, I don’t know. There’s so many stars out there.” She took another sip of soup. “Pup, do you know anything about the planet down below?”. He blinked, “Oh that? Seems like a gas giant to me, the galaxy’s full of them. The company’s only here to mine the moon. They’ll be onto the next one after this." Roni stared into the bowl. "Sometimes the workers talk about a garden you know. Down on the planets surface. Green with leaf and flower. I suppose its just a story” She mocked herself with a half smile. A silence encircled the mat, a quiet solemnity. In a life scraping for food and jeering at tourists, Pup had forgotten the dignity in dreams, and in that moment saw before him a child betrayed by the universe. Roni forgetting herself gestured the soup bowl towards him. “Oh no you finish that Roni, I’ve already eaten today, haha”. She drank heartily, she really was very hungry. And hot food was the luxury of her life. “Thank you” she said again, “to tell you the truth I was a bit hungry after that shift yesterday. I got a new recruit hurt in the tunnels, had to lug both our drills back to the platform.” Pup was suddenly stirred from thought, “New recruit? I didn’t know they were hiring”. Roni laughed not noticing his curiosity, “Neither did I, but another one died in the mines apparently so they needed someone to fill the post. I’m training him but he dropped a drill on his foot, near broke his leg I think. He seems alright though, sweet kid, his names Zeander.” Dapupjinn didn’t respond. Only looking ahead of her. She noticed the silence. “Well I should probably think about heading back now Pup, should really get some rest before work tomorrow. Thanks again for the soup.” He stood up to wave her off, “Stay safe Roni” He said slowly, “Those mines sound like they’re getting very dangerous.” She frowned a little but waved back, “They’re always dangerous!” And she turned the corner at the end of the hallway. Dapupjinn sat a while on his mat, by his empty bowl. His thumbs brushing the tops of his hands as his mind stirred about. His left hand unconsciously came to rest on the pommel of his lightsaber.

Roni walked down the hallway and into the public toilets now on her left. It was still empty, and her cubicle was still jammed shut. She laid on the ground and reached her arm underneath the door to slide her bag back over onto her side. She grabbed the right tool and freed the door loose. She picked up her bucket and left the room, going left back down towards the turbo lift. LEVEL 8 announced the voice, and the lift doors swept open onto the hallway before her. She straddled her heavy bucket heaving it down the hallway, turning another right into another hallway to reach her room. She set the bucket down and swiped her pass on the terminal. The door lock released. She heaved the bucket into her room and closed the door behind her. The day was as much as she could manage. Fatigue pulled her down with an ache in her bones. She set herself on her bed, starring into the wall, charting the moon’s surface in her mind. She listed into sleep, a darling of stars, dreaming of a greener country in galaxies far, far away.

Chapter IV​

Pup woke to a pang in his ribs and a ringing in his ears. They kicked him again. A firm boot to the side. “Move along!” The guards yanked him by his collar setting him up against the wall. He winced and scrunched his eyes but kept from speaking. “Management’s had enough of you old man. You’re to be ‘moved along’ just like the rest of them.” Pup smiled cordially and bowed to collect his bowl and mat. He pulled back his hand as a guard kicked his bowl clattering down the hall. “Follow it.” He quietly rolled up his mat, set it under his arm, and began his march. “Into the turbo lift at the end. And if we catch you on the upper levels again we’ll take the clothes off your back.” Fear and shame are more powerful weapons than any blaster on this side of space. He fetched his bowl and stepped into the lift. A guard swiped his own pass on the terminal to send Pup down a level. They laughed as the doors swiped shut on the old man. The silence was solace. He wished the whir of the lift could go on for ever. Suspended between levels. Never anywhere. But it did come to a stop, the doors swept open to a chill air on Level 4. The beginnings of the accommodation levels. Pup knew it would be harder to scrape by down here without the flow of giddy tourists. But he’d done it before on the other moon stations. Besides he could always get a worker to swipe the lift for him if he needed to move between levels. He walked the hallways of numbered innumerable rooms. Waded through the droning din of snoring, shuffling, panicking and weeping. He noted the communal toilets and the automated vendors. Unfurling his mat and carefully placing his empty bowl beside, he sat down, leaning his back against the wall to take the weight off his ribs, which pained and sawed against each other when he moved. He sighed, folded his hood over his face, and remembered his training.

Roni was wrenched awake by the whiny dinging of the morning alarm. Sharp as a rusty nail popping a balloon. She stretched out her hands for the bucket and drank. The water had been sat out all night and was room temperature. But it was clean and mostly clear. Feeling refreshed she fetched her moon caked boots and overalls and bundled them in her bag. She’d fallen asleep in her clean overalls but they were clean enough for work. Again she stood before her door as the battling wash of workers barrelled behind and down the hall. She took a deep breath, hauled up her bag, and emerged out into the hallway. She waded through the moving maze brushing off one worker and bouncing off another. It was a blur to the turbo lift, where she found herself again pressed up against the back wall as more workers piled in, suffocating any pocket of air. Someone swiped their pass and the lift sank from its clamps, straining the rails as it shuffled down the shaft. Eventually the lift reached LEVEL 9 and the doors opened. The platform was suddenly flooded with workers from the lift darting in every direction. Roni ducked between the lines taking the right towards the canteen. She came upon the archway and retreated into the vestibule. The shadow sheltered her from the bounding echoes of the platform, she took the time to breathe. Descending the steps into the canteen, the workers were more talkative than her last shift. There was no bounty today so people were going at their normal pace. The din of chatter was a comfort. She walked across the hall to the right wall. Right in the far corner was a chute for cleaning clothes. She took out her key-card with a heavy sigh and swiped it on the terminal. Her profile flashed on screen, as well as her balance. She selected 1 WASH and watched as a days wages were deducted from her balance. The chute opened out from the wall. She unfastened her bag and tossed her dirty boots and overalls down the chute, and slammed it shut. They would be done by her shifts end. She walked up to the vendors on the left wall, collected her cup of brown, claimed her nutrient brick and sat at one of the empty tables. She was dreading the shift ahead. Double. Two meters she’d have to dig, and double that to cover Zeander. She savoured her rations. Eating slowly, and drinking steadily. Workers came and went. Some stumbled down the steps barely standing, others came coughing up moon dust. It was not an encouraging sight. But her time came and she pulled herself away from the table and proceeded up the steps out of the canteen. From the archway she marched right to the cave entrance at the end of the platform. She just wanted to check out her drill and get to her tunnel. Her heart clenched at the sight of her foreman huffing towards her. “You! You failed to send the duct down the mine after your last shift missy. Valuable moon dust just sitting there waiting to be processed! Time is money you know. Your money! You don’t send the duct down you don’t get paid. It’s as simple as that. And I’m not even gonna start on the incident with that new one. Lucky for us he’s insured or you’d be coughing up the coin for his coverage!” She stared through it “Yes sir”. He shook his head spraying smelly sweat into the air, “Now you better get started. Two meters young lady, for two!”. He humphed away heaving his heft behind him. She swiped her pass on the terminal with a sigh. A blank bulb on the drill rack flashed green and she claimed the drill. It felt heavier, and dug deeper into her side. She flicked the torch alight and began her descent down the far tunnel. The mines were miles deep in the moon. The further she drilled, the thinner the air, and denser the dust became. The dust compacted and clumped on the skin. The light of the torch bloomed about her as it hit the end wall. She set her drill flat to the wall and was about to pull the triggers when she heard a calling from behind her. Up aways in the tunnel came a wail and a whir. It was Zeander. He’d followed her down, afloat in a hover chair. “Roni!” He declared. The whirring came to a halt and he leaned forward, his face emerged from the dark into the orb of light around her. The white light rinsed the blue from his eyes into a blank stare. “Roni! I’m glad I caught you and saved you wasting time, we’ve a lot of work to do”. She tried to smile, “What do you mean Zeander?” He beamed a smile excitedly, “Orders are to start drilling right, 90 degrees from the end of this tunnel.” He looked her over, “This is the one!”. Orders always came from the foreman, who got his orders from ‘management’. Sensing her unease, Zeander hovered closer, “You can check with the foreman if you want, but he sent me down here. They’ve found on the scanners a huge deposit of kyber crystals down here, 90 degrees from your tunnel. Orders are to start drilling right away!”. She was too tired to climb back up and out onto the platform to go looking for her foreman, and wasting time would be even more costly. Beside her better judgment she agreed, smiled and nodded, and set the flat bit of her drill against the wall on her right. “Drill down” Zeander chimed, “The tunnel needs a steep and steady incline.” She adjusted the bit, and set her body flush with the wall to avoid injury. “I’m sorry about what happened with your leg by the way, how is it?” Zeander shuffled in his hover chair, “Huh? Oh yeah it was so painful. But the medical droid said I’d be healed in a week or so.” He stirred as if to correct himself, “But I can’t be operating heavy machinery you understand.” Roni squeezed the triggers on the drill, and the flat head smacked against the wall, rattling her wrists. It smacked again. A fume of dust plumed about her. It smacked again. The dust scratched the back of her throat like powdered glass. It smacked again, on and on. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. She looked back to Zeander who was head down in a kind of stupor, gazing into a holo terminal. Two 3d monsters punched each other repeatedly. It seemed to occupy all his attention. She turned back to the flat grey wall billowing a new helping of dust with every bludgeoning thud. It bored. It bored. It bored. She was caked in moon dust. A powdered grey statue save for the whites of her eyes, blinking in the light. She coughed, wheezing. She tried to spit, but couldn’t muster the moisture. Her tongue felt like a clump of sand in her mouth. She had to stop the drill. Its rapidly spinning machinery slowed to a whir. But she couldn’t have silence for the beeping and buzzing of Zeander’s holo terminal echoing in the tunnel space. He paused his game when he noticed the drilling stopped, “What’s wrong why have you stopped?” Roni was trying to breathe straight, but couldn’t get enough air without it scratching at her throat. “I need a break Zeander” she said straight. “But we’re on the clock, if you don’t drill you don’t get paid” Roni heaved herself upright, “You know I’m working your shift too right, it’s not as if y-“, “I’d be working if you didn’t break my foot” He snapped, having rehearsed this rebuttal. Roni frowned at him curiously, “Why do you care if I get paid or not anyway. Apparently you’re insured, so you’re not losing anything.” He seemed to think for a moment, and switched his game back on, “Because I care about you getting off this rock of course. We’re young, we should be out among the stars and not stuck down here in mines eh?”. Her gaze fell upon his broken foot. She felt her legs wobble, and she slumped to the ground. “I don’t think I’ll be leaving anytime soon.”

“You can’t leave?”

“I don’t have enough yet. Our wages are recorded on our profiles, but if you want to cash out they take a cut. Then you get paid in these stamped coins, the stations own currency.” She scooped handfuls of dust from out her boots. “But the shuttle bays only accept Republic Credits so you have to go to one of the vendors on the first level to get an exchange, which is always less. I know people that’ve been down here ten years and more. Their rations docked so bad they have to waste their wages on the food vendors just to survive.” She sighed, “They’re never getting out.”

“So you can’t leave.” He echoed himself.

Roni blinked, pretending to not hear him. She could leave, she thought, she just needed to work hard enough. She stood back up, patted herself down, and set the drill back onto the wall and squeezed. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. She was soon consumed by a cloud of thick grey dust. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. She could no longer feel the beat of her heart but knew that she would one day get off this moon. She just needed to keep drilling. Her white eyes fixed their gaze to the wall as it was bludgeoned repeatedly. Focused, unblinking, she powered through the rest of their shifts, boring four meters down through the rock. The drilling seized. The dust settled. Roni breathed out, moon dust sifted through her teeth. She lurched forward and scraped her tongue. It hurt to blink. Her eyelids pinched. She felt dry as rock but her overalls were damp and chaffed her skin. She set the drill down and switched off the light, sitting in the silence as cool air filtered back into the tunnel from above. Zeander sat up in his chair, “Well done Roni that looked rough, those drills are noisy aren’t they.” She was too spent to answer. “Here I’ll float on up and fetch the duct down here.” With that he swivelled his chair and hovered smoothly up the tunnel, disappearing at the left turn. There Roni sat, in the dark, cold and still as the rock behind her. Taking short, sharp breaths that never satisfied. Zeander appeared some moments later towing the duct behind his chair. He set the long funnelling tube beside Roni, “That’ll keep the foreman off our backs eh? Come on, put the drill on my lap and lets get out of here. I for one have had enough of mines for one day.” She spent her last dregs of strength heaving the drill from the floor and into his chair. He hovered away before her, she followed behind. As she climbed up the tunnel the air turned fuller, her blood ran redder, and feeling tingled in her fingertips. Zeander had set the drill on the rack in the cave and was waiting for her. She emerged from the darkness a little more colourful. “Thanks again Roni, I know this is hard but if we get first dibs on that deposit of Kyber crystals things could really look up for you.” She managed to twitch her cheeks in response. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow. Our shift starts up again in the morning.” He swivelled his chair and hovered away out the cave and onto the platform. The whir of his chair echoed about the large cavern amplifying louder and louder, compounding on itself, until he evidently reached the turbo lift, and the noise seized. Roni found her way to the canteen. Collected her food and drink rations and collapsed on a table.

At the turbo lift Zeander was gesturing to his chair as a bundle or tired workers insisted on getting in the lift with him. He was tapping his chair rapidly as a child rattles a toy but they were too tired to take heed. They all shuffled in around him, one swiped their pass and the doors swept close. Zeander sat pouting as the lift stirred. The workers stank of the mines he thought. Treading moon mud about them. Lucky he was off the ground. LEVEL 4 declared the voice from the lift. The doors swept open but not all of the workers alighted. Two remained behind him, one leaned over, “Hey are you going up?” Zeander bit his lip and left the lift huffing as the doors closed behind him. He hovered down the hallway looking for another lift. He turned a left and saw this hallway terminated in a turbo lift. He whirred down the hall at speed aiming to reach the lift before any other workers showed up. Suddenly his chair dipped and snagged against the wall on his right, sending a bowl clattering down the hall. He turned to see an old vagrant hunched on the floor on a mat. "Watch it old man!”. He blinked and breathed, setting himself in the chair. “You’d have better luck in the commercial sector anyway eh?”. The man didn’t move. The boy clicked his tongue and continued his way down the hall, muttering curses all the way to the lift. The lift was empty as he arrived upon it. He hastily turned his chair about and swiped his pass on the terminal. The doors swept shut. As the terminal flickered on, and processed his profile, 17 panels floated to the screen. One blank panel between each of the 9 numbered panels. He selected the blank panel between panels 1 and 2. The lift stirred, and began its ascent, floating smooth as a bubble in a breeze. The boy breathed a sigh of relief, and nestled into his chair. The lift rose up the levels, past the usual points before slowing to a stop. Clamps fixed the lift in place and a demure voice announced his arrival. Zeander smiled in anticipation. The doors swept open to a pearly white hall made up mostly of a pool of crystal water in its centre, tinted pink and sparkling with glossy bubbles. This pool inlaid in the ground was near as wide as the room and almost as long save for a dining platform at the far end where a party of guest sat sipping drinks from ice cooled glasses. He hovered into the room. The doors closed behind him. “Ah Z is that you my precious boy?” A woman had been bathing in the centre of the pink pool. She was moving now to the steps facing the guests, her back to the lift entrance. Lily pads curled as she waded through the water. A host of servants stood ready clutching a thick brown robe in waiting. The woman emerged from the pool, arms stretched out towards her servants. They swiftly dried their mistress, embalmed her in scented oils and wrapped around her the elegant gown, thick and flowing to the floor. Hooded and veiled to hide her silver hair and smooth her wrinkled face “Approach my child” She declared in a breath, barely taxing her vocal cords to speak. Zeander stood up, stretched his legs and kicked the chair back behind him. “It is me Mother” He cried rushing up to her, paying no notice to the guests at the tables. She gazed at him from behind her veil. “Ah, my boy, you are covered in dust from the mines. Hard at work?” She laughed snapping her fingers to the servants who hurried about him, brushing his clothes where he stood. “I’ve found one.” He said earnestly. “I think you’re going to like her.” He thought he could make out a smile from behind the finery, and that pleased him more than anything in the galaxy. Hearing this the guests all clinked their glasses like little bells sounding in celebration. “Now now” The woman lifted her hand, her long fingers fell limp in the air. “It is not becoming of us to celebrate too soon lest we forget the trial ahead. We must of course find the means”. She stared intently into Zeanders eyes. Her gaze could pain him, and well up all his secrets to surface. “I’m working on it Mother, we are digging. It won’t be long now.” The woman seemed to float across the room as her robes concealed her step. She approached the party of guests and turned gesturing to Zeander. “My boy, you must be tired, come and replenish yourself with us.” Zeander bowed his head low and followed after his mother, joining the guests in their fine foods and chilled drinks.

Chapter V​

The lights had dimmed in the canteen. Shadows crept into the corners. No noise but for a numb shuffling as workers stirred in their stupors. Every other table had a worker asleep, their heads collapsed in their arms. Roni woke to the hum of a cleaning droid scooping moon mud that lead to her table. Her head felt heavy. Her arms lay limp. Her hearing was dulled as though clotted sponges plugged her ears. And the beating. The mindless ghost of the drill bounding about her brain. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. She noticed her nutrient brick was missing, and her cup was empty. Perhaps she ate it. She couldn’t tell if she was hungry. Likely a starving worker snatched it from her sleep. She wouldn’t have blamed them. But she wouldn’t do the same. A sudden thought itched her brain. She scratched at her temple. Something needed remembering. She looked down at her mud caked boots clogged with dust. The droid buzzed about her feet scooping up the muck. The little droid was quite cute. Chute. She wouldn’t mind one of her own once this was all over. Overalls. She felt a floating sensation like her brain peeling away from its sack, bobbing in a bowl. She felt her hands brush away from the table, and her legs swayed towards the far corner behind her. She was stood before the cleaning chute. Her clean clothes! She shook her head and swiped her pass. A whir rumbled from within the wall and a light flashed green above the chute. Directly under the chute a drawer popped out producing a pair of clean pressed overalls, black polished boots and a bag. She shoved the lot in the bag and closed the drawer softly so as not to disturb the other workers. She tackled the steps out of the canteen slowly. One at time. Heaving one leg up and onto a step with her other dragging behind. One at a time. She reached the vestibule under the archway, and there she waited once more. This double shift pained her body, and drained her mind. Were she a bucket of water she’d be but dregs spluttering about the bottom. She proceeded left out of the archway onto the cavernous platform. The echoes of her footsteps snapped about the ceiling. She passed as a wretched shadow down the platform, slipping like smoke into the chamber of the lift. The doors swept shut. She swiped her pass, the usual 9 numbered panels floated to the screen. She selected 8 and the lift began its ascent. The doors opened. She went wrenching down the hallway passed the toilets on her right and stopping at her door on her left. She swiped her pass and shuffled into her room. Closing the door behind her. She sat upright on her bed a while, under the soft blue light. Too tired to sleep. Just gazing into the wall of drawers. The mines were becoming evidently more dangerous the deeper she drilled. The dust. The ceaseless, formless dust infecting every cavity it could cram into. She scraped her powdered tongue over her brittle teeth. She wasn’t prepared for the depth her tunnel had dug. It was becoming nearly impossible to breath. She stared longingly at her bucket of water on the corner shelf. Willing it to move for her arms lay limp beside her, with only the occasional spark of sensation. It of course did not move. She clenched the end of her bed in her fists until feeling flooded back from her shoulders to her palms. She balanced herself on wobbling legs and claimed the bucket, both falling to the floor. She went to take a sip, the water stung her lip. She winced through the pain, and drank. It chaffed her throat and sat in her stomach as though pooling above a mound of sand. Grey dust soon clouded the water. She rinsed her hands and washed her face. She needed something to filter the dust, and she needed it before tomorrow. She couldn’t afford any rebreathing apparatus, nor had the time to acquire one if she did. She looked around her room for something to cover her mouth in the tunnels. She pulled out the high drawer and settled it down on her bed. An ache in her throat swelled. She reached in for her shiny green shawl. It fell upon the air, gossamer as a spiders silk, and nestled on her lap. She traced with her fingertips the threaded pattern of a flower half in bloom. “Oh Dad”. She sighed. She put it to rest in the drawer and set it back in the high wall. She considered for a moment, the cost of her idea. Her station profile floated before her eyes with the numbers of her balance plummeting. She tore a sleeve from her dirty overalls and wrapped it around her jaw. It fit. She set it down. “This’ll do”. Roni had weighed the price of her life and found it to be worth the months wages it would cost to buy another set of overalls. It was very late, or very early. Midnight had since passed and she needed rest if she were to survive the shift ahead. She bundled herself up in her bed. Wrapped the covers about her like a cocoon. Her body released, her mind swam in a shallow sleep.

* BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP *

It could only have been a few hours. She was too numb to feel any urgency. But the alarm engaged in her an autopilot that steered her up and out of bed. She found herself staring into her wall until the alarm seized it’s ringing. And in that sudden silence she noticed there was no shuffling outside her door. No trodding boots bounding about the hall. No jagged elbows dragging down the wall. Only silence. Changing into her clean overalls she took her bucket down and drank, brushed her teeth and washed her face. The smoky grey water turned to sand in her mouth. Her throat still felt sharp and sore from the day before. She pulled on her clean boots and set the sandy pair aside. Remembering the strip of sleeve she had torn from her dirty overalls, she bundled it up in her palms and stashed it in her pocket, ready to be deployed down in the mines. She walked out into the empty hallway. Lights hummed overhead. There were no signs of life save for the din of whirring lifts from far off corners of the station. The occasional door closing shut. Proceeding the usual path right from her room and down the hall, she passed the toilets on her left. No dripping taps, no squeaky echo, no swinging doors on the stalls. Silence. She continued on to the end of the hallway where the usual turbo lift awaited, tripping slightly on an mat that had been left against the wall. She reached the lift and scanned her pass. The usual 9 numbered panels floated to the screen, she selected 9 and the doors sealed shut. In the lift she took a moment to close her eyes and collect her thoughts. Once these double shifts were over she’d take another trip to the upper levels, if just to see the stars again. The lift landed. The doors opened. She stepped out onto the dark and empty platform. The echo of her step spiralled up and out and bounced about the rocky ceiling of the cavern and back down to her. Hover vehicles left fixed to the floor, dotted about, abandoned in transit. She turned right from the lift and into the dark. A speck of white light marked the cave entrance at the end of the platform. She headed towards it. Approaching on her right the archway was sealed. A metal grate had closed the canteen and two guards were posted either side. Masked and featureless. Anonymous guards. As she approached closer to the cave she noticed Zeander, waiting for her in his hover chair with a drill in his lap. “Hey Roni! Over here. You got here on time then. Good.” She approached slowly. “What’s going on Zeander, where is everybody, why is the canteen closed?” He brushed off her questions with a twitching smile. “Oh apparently they detected a risk of a cave in at some of the other tunnels, so they closed the platform. But our tunnel was deemed safe and essential that’s all. Here I already checked out a drill for you.”

“Where’s my foreman?” Roni snapped, her tiredness itching to an irritant. “Our foreman is in the canteen being, briefed on the situation. He told me to get us sorted for our shift today, as normal.” He presented the drill to her. His outstretched arms wobbled under the weight. She looked once more into Zeanders blue eyes. Now that she had seen the stars anew, they bared no resemblance. She took the drill, took the weight, and went ahead, down into the tunnel. She switched on the torch. Zeander followed closely behind her. Reaching the end of the original tunnel she turned the sharp right down the new tunnel, four metres deep, sloping downwards. “Another four metres to go I should think.”. Zeander had arrived keen to their shift it seemed. “So says the scans”. Roni set the drill down and pulled the strip of sleeve from her pocket. She tied it tight around her jaw, veiling her nose and mouth from the dust to come. She hauled up the drill, set the bit flat to the wall. Sighed. Braced, and squeezed the triggers. The drill began its work. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Punching the rock and pulling back and punching again. It rattled her wrist bones with a ceaseless buzz. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. The drill pushed on. Pushing down into the moon. Reducing solid rock to a sharp vapour of silt and sand. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. It was hard to siphon air through the sleeve but what air hit her throat was save of silt and dust. As she stared into the grey wall ahead, harshly lit from the torch, she could feel Zeander hovering just behind her in the dark. Her neck tingled. The air was thick with moon dust in the narrow tunnel. The mine was beginning to insulate. Sweat beaded from her brow, slicked down her nose and hung off the end, tickling to the top of her lip. Her skin chaffed in her overalls. Her fingers fixed in fists ached to stretch free. Just as she was thinking about setting it down the drill snagged in a violent bend, mangling her wrists around each other. The machine crashed to the floor in a spinning light, whirring to a stop. Roni slumped to the floor nursing her wrists. Zeander lurched forward, “What happened? Are you ok? Are you damaged?”. Roni was pressing points of her wrist between her thumb and forefinger, her eyes darted about in panic. “No, no I think I’m alright. Nothings broken, just a bit strained I think. It took me aback a bit that’s all.” Zeander leaned over, “Here pass up the drill and I’ll go get us a new one.” She scooped her numb arms under the drill and lifted it up towards his chair. He set it in his lap and whizzed off away up the tunnel. There Roni sat. Sore, damp and aching in the dark. For the first time she felt afraid of the darkness down here without the light of the drill. A cold crept in from above. She couldn’t feel it through the dust on her face. But she could feel it under her damp overalls. It was getting to be too much, and this shift seemed strange enough. It seemed but a blink before Zeander returned. Roni thought she might’ve fallen asleep for a moment. “Here, drill.” He passed the machinery to her as she stood up. She had drilled one metre. For all her sweated strength. One metre. She set the drill to the wall and again squeezed the triggers. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. It went on this way for hours. In white light, with no promise of a sun in the sky. No promise of fresh air from a meadow. No promise of sleep in sanctuary. It went on this way for hours. Always Zeander felt close to her neck, hovering behind her in the black shadow of the tunnel. On a on. Down and down, boring deep into the moons rocky yoke. Dust billowed from the beating of the drill. Dank condensate dripped constantly down on her brow. *Tap* Tap* Tap*. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. *Tap* Tap* Tap*. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Her bones buzzed. Her breath wheezed. Coughs cutting up the tender flesh in her throat. *Tap* Tap* Tap*. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Then the wall began to echo under the drill like beating on the skin of a drum. A shard of rock snapped off and fell to the floor as a spear of milky blue light pierced the wall before her, beaming sharply to the ground. “Stop! Stop!” Bleated Zeander from behind. The drill whirred to a silence. Roni set the drill aside, pulled the sleeve away from her mouth, and ducked low, peering through the hole. The light was too bright to make anything out. But knocking on the rock sent echoes abound. “This is it” said the voice on her back through grinning teeth. “Keep drilling Roni, we’re nearly there!” Too curious to catch her breath she lugged up the drill and set it flat to the wall. She took a trigger in each palm and squeezed. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Echoes boomed about behind the wall. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Bu- *BREAK* The stone snapped. Cracks from the small hole sparked out like a smashed egg. It was crumbling away before them. Falling to dust on the ground. Blue light beamed into the tunnel. Roni blinked through it. Blueish white light flashed and faded away revealing a large chamber of smooth grey stone. Above her the ceiling vanished into a hanging shadow. A thin shallow mote of half frozen water bordered the square chamber. Before her stood an elevated platform, sloping up in smooth cut stone, and in the centre of it all was a sharp cornered oblong, about her height in length. Hanging high above this oblong was a large white orb emitting the soft blue light. It was cold. The air was still. She found herself stepping into the chamber, taken with curiosity. Zeander hovered behind. “W-What do you think it is Z? Zeander?” She turned around to the barrel of a blaster extending out from his hand. He stood up and kicked the chair aside. “I’m sorry Roni, but you need to get into that thing in the middle there. Please just do this Roni, it’ll be easier on both of us.” She could barely keep her foggy eyes fixed on the barrel. Any fantasy of taking it from him fell flat. “Just walk on up to it Roni. That’s it.” He gestured with the blaster. She began her slow march to the middle of the chamber, up the steady slope to the long open box. She turned again, “N-No, No I won’t. What are you talking about? What is this?”. The boy pouted, “I asked you nicely just play the game girl!” At that moment they heard steady footsteps descend the dark behind them. They waited, and from the shadow of the tunnel emerged the figure of a robed woman, hooded, clad in black silk and veiled in lace. Her curtained robe swept the floor as she appeared to glide before them. “Mother!” announced Zeander. From the veil a sweet voice whispered, speaking as air escapes the lungs of a corpse when pressed. “My boy, you have done so well”. Her gaze fixed on Roni’s face. She pulled Zeander to her chest. “You have made your Mother so very proud of you”. Zeanders eyes glistened with swelling tears as he looked up to the shroud. “I got her to drill Mother, and drill and drill and at last I’ve found it!” His voice echoed in the chamber. “I know my boy. Haven’t you done well”. She pushed him to one side. Her eyes still fixed on Roni’s. “I can see you are somewhat bewildered child.” Roni did not respond. The woman’s air was quieting. She seemed to occupy a larger presence in Roni’s mind than her form would suggest. “We live in the spaces between. In open plan apartments filled with fresh air and soft furniture. Cooling systems chill our drinking glasses to clear ice. Our warm baths ever run like fountains, bubbles fragrant with spices from far off worlds. Those guards? Our private army. You cannot gain access to a system you do not know exists. You already lost out the moment you were born dear. It is the way of Empire. Your youth for our comfort. And this tomb serves my purpose. Your body will power this station until there is no more moon to mine. We will sell all for profit and move on to another. It is the way of Empire my child. Now, step into the sarcophagus.” Roni swayed as her legs were about to betray her. She didn’t know what to do, or what to say, that could save her fate. But the moment was broken by a spluttering cough echoing down the tunnel behind them. The woman did not stir but Roni’s eyes darted to the break in the wall. From out of the darkness stumbled Dapupjinn. “Minera!” He proclaimed. The old woman smiled a single seam from temple to temple. “Pup!” The word escaped Roni’s mouth. Zeander circled about and yanked the strip of sleeve around her jaw. It dug into her mouth behind her teeth as he tied it taut against the back of her neck. The veiled woman, Minera, spoke. “You have followed me around for far too long Jedi.” She turned slowly to face him. “Tell me how have you alluded us on this station?” Dapupjinn smiled. “Where better for a leaf to hide but in a forest?”. His face turned sour. “Now let this one go. You need not do this again.” Air passed her lips in a sort of laugh. “I think it’s time I put this old dog down”. The old witch wrenched out her arm, her hand strained to a claw. The air shifted and Roni’s skull smacked to the ground. Minera then buried her arm in her sleeve and revealed a long black hilt glinting like a shard of obsidian. She held it forth and from the end emerged a beam, writhing like pink snakes in a coil before jolting taut to a blade. Pup had deployed his lightsaber. He pressed his thumb to the big red button *CLICK* out sparked a buzzing blade green as a shoot of bamboo. “I’ve learned a few new tricks I’m afraid.” She flew towards him. The lightsabers clashed like thunder and sparked like rain, spitting like lighter fluid enflamed. Fireflies dancing in the dark. An ancient ritual courting death from the deep. They swung and swiped, stingers entwined and tangled and flittering free. A violent ballet. Acrid smoke consumed the dancers billowing thicker with every strike. Pink and green flashes sparked the smoke alight like lightning in a storm, their blades whirring and whining through the air. The swish of their robes revealed fast flashes of their faces strained and breathless as their spinning churned the smoke about them as a snow storm in the mountains. Minera swung her lightsaber above her like a nerfherder loops a lasso. Dapupjinns head rolled to the wall, gurgling in the gutter. She then plunged her blade down from the seared stump to the toes, cleaving Dapupjinn’s body down its middle. The twin halves slopped to the ground in two thuds. Roni woke at the sound, blinking through the blur. Minera pulled away wrenching, cupping her mouth with her sleeve. She closed her eyes, set her breathing, and sighed in disappointment. The humming pink blade diminished into it’s black cone, leaving no trace but a warm static in the air, and an echo in the rafters. The smoke cleared. Minera straightened her pose, and turned to Roni. ”A pity to kill him, I would have liked to have sold him into slavery, where there he would learn true suffering. Here on this station he lilted lazily from one hallway to the other, growing fat off the charity of others, off my people. His needs met in relative abundance I should say.” Roni found herself being scooped up into Zeanders chair. It floated up and over, hovering above the sarcophagus. The chair sloped down tipping the girl flat into her coffin, wherein her body was suddenly gripped by a numbing cold. The black shroud of Minera, wreathed in blue light loomed above her. “Your life for my lights. Your blood for my baths. Your youth for my comfort, and I will not think of you.” The sarcophagus sealed above her, plunging Roni in darkness. Minera departed up the tunnel, Zeander towing behind her like a lost puppy, leaving Roni in the chamber alone. Her last thoughts were of the garden on the planet down below. The creeping woodland plants climbing up forgotten walls, breaking through the brick work. Spears of golden sunshine piercing the tree tops. A City? A Temple. Stone steps. Crumbling arches. Her pupils filled with a grey smoke as her form froze stiff. Carbonite would be a mercy, for the sarcophagus stole her years with every orbit. The flush of her youth wasted. The blush in her cheeks yellowed and sunk in her skull. She passed out of the world used, hidden away, and forgotten.

The End



Written by TheChorlianCorner


Based on STAR WARS created by George Lucas

​

 

Ooh, this was fantastic! I really liked all the textural details of life on the moon station that give it a very lived-in feel and reinforce the hardscrabble existence of (most of) its inhabitants. Roni was a very likable protagonist, which makes her bleak ending all the more poignant; it's not even such a cautionary tale when there was, really, no way out for her. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time in the wrong sort of universe, and it turned out horribly because of Minera and whatever life-draining thing she's created to use people like Roni as her batteries.

And I get the sense that poor Dapupjinn was just trying to save a friend, though he has his own mysterious maybe-Jedi motivations going on at the same time. The interactions between him and Roni earlier in the story were just wonderful, too, and it makes the sucker punch of the ending land that much harder.

The whole setting and out-of-time feel to things is really well-done and reinforces the sense that this is a repetitive cycle both literally and symbolically (in the sense that there are a lot of casualties to greed in the galaxy, whether supernatural or otherwise). It feels like this could be any time in the chronology since Minera only refers to "Empire", not the Empire. The possibly mythical gardens on the gas giant are a fascinating bit of worldbuilding too, and I can only wonder about their place in the whole strange situation. I'd like to think that the idea of them was a comfort to Roni in her final moments, but it's hard to say for sure when perhaps they just seem like another form of mirage that has deserted her.

Welcome to fanfic, by the way!

 

Ah! Yes interesting take away of the garden. It's like how dreams can give us solace and keep us going but can also lead us astray if we get too enamoured by them. Which I'm certainly guilty of in my own life. I think so too about Dapupjinn, It could be he was using Roni as bait, and so just another person to use her, but I'm glad I seeded enough doubt as to his origins and motivations. Thank you very much for reading this, it's a long one and a very slow burn so I'm very grateful. And thank you for the warm welcome! I'm enjoying reading through everyones work on here.