(Episode II - Balmorra) Part 1: Fleeing to the Factory

Klaxons wailed overhead, as the monotone voice of the Overseer droned loudly over the speakers. “Now hear this. We are under attack. All students, please return immediately to your rooms. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill.” As usual Noot rolled his eyes at the choice of words. “Student” was a generous term here at the #37th Balmorran Juvenile Trade School. “Unpaid laborer,” “child hostage,” or “slave” would be more appropriate. It was also the only “room” he’d had with las-sealed doors and windows.

Like all the other kids at the “school,” Noot was the child of laborers in one of the nearby factories. Until recently, he had lived in a, admittedly austere, but loving home with his parents and siblings. But when the Central Authority took over Balmorra, they mandated attendance in the new schools. Free labor for the factories and hostages in these turbulent times ensured that the Balmorran weapons factories were more productive and profitable than ever.

But Noot had had enough. He had been planning his escape for weeks. And he was finally ready. The elaborate scheme of distractions, disguises, and impersonations was sure to go right. This time. All he had to do was get back to his cell, grab his things and-

A blast shook the facility and the lights flickered. And suddenly, every las-beamed door and window in the entire #37th Balmorran Juvenile Trade School was open. The power was out.

Screams and cheers echoed through the halls as children fled in every direction. Noot was rooted to the spot in shock until his best friends, Muira and Tiks grabbed him by either arm and hauled him through the open door.

“But- but- but my plan!” stuttered Noot.

“Shut up Noot, your stupid plan was never going to work. You are way to short to be a stormtrooper”

The children fled with the crowd. Shouts of joy soon became shrieks of terror as stun blasts began to rain down from above.

“Quick, where are we going to hide? Noot, what did you have for this part of the plan?” Muira’s voice was quick and high with fear.

“I… I never thought about what would happen when we got outside…”

Tiks took control, hauling the others off to one side. “This way,” he rasped, “my father worked in one of the old droid factories during the Clone Wars. I know a way in.”

With stunning bolts peppering the ground around them, the panicked children dashed headlong into the dark opening.