[H15 - Pam'ba - WW] The Path of Water LTC: Retribution pt2: Preacher Station

https://flic.kr/p/2sB7ZMr

Preachers Station: Pam’ba orbit

Preachers station was ‘officially’ abandoned in New Republic records. The station had been used to house mining guild operators, that was until they fled the system prior to the closure of the planets phosphate mines. Republic databanks registered no guild activity in the area, strange given the movement of cargo from the planets surface up to the orbital refinery. 

Petra, a small girl of nine years, had lived on the station for as long as she could remember. She could remember each face, each name, every voice. Her long, shaggy, blonde hair draped over her eyes like a wet mop over a dirty bucket. This was common aboard the station. Those under the service of Warden Kae Sillax had no credits to spare, nor credits at all. Rather, those fortunate enough to find traces of phosphate, in the derelict mines below, were paid in the only real resource they needed. Water. 

It was on such an escapade where Petra had managed to collect a single pouch of pink Pam’ban phosphate, enough, she thought, to garner her the biggest prize of them all. Throat dry as the smoke filled air around her, Petra marched behind the pack of scavengers leaving the airlock, and followed them into what the crew called the ‘Mess’.

Truth be told it had once been the cargo bay, only now the cargo had ran dry it had been converted into a mess hall. The crowd fanned out around the room in a semi circle shape, Petra still hidden behind the tallest at the front. 

She stood hunched, peering between the scavengers legs, beginning to be pushed up against by the new pack of miners behind her. 

“Silence you Dregs!”

The room fell silent. 

“It’s been a lean year comrades.” Sillax declared, Petra watching him closely from behind the crowd. “But I’m pleased to see you haven’t given up on old Kae.”

“Never, Captain!” A few chanted in unison.

He smiled. A strange twisted expression one could only assume was a smile. Sillax was Zygerrian. His black fur matted, and teeth yellowing in their blackened gums. 

“I wondered whether… whether given the dry harvest… you may have followed some of our less patient comrades.” He murmured, gesturing to the garbage shoot behind the amassed crowd. 

“But as you have all showed your loyalty!” He bolstered. “I shall provide why you have all came. Come forward and present your tribute!”

Men filed forward, rushing and pushing one another. In turn each presented the Warden with his tribute. Mostly crumbs of phosphate. Some big, some small. Yet all were considerably larger than what Petra had managed to produce in her pouch. 

At last, Petra stepped up and presented her small brown pouch to Sillax. She unloosened the strings and poured the pink dust into her palm, looking at him anxiously. 

“What is this?” He questioned. “Spice?”

The girl shook her head, mute.

He stretched out a hand and pinched the mound of dust between his fingers. He grimaced.

“Crystal.” He grumbled.

Suddenly, a gust of pink air flew into Petra’s face as Sillax blew his putrid breath into her hand. The uplift engulfed the room in pink smoke, dazing the girl in place.

“You deceive me girl!” Sillax grunted, pulling a remote from his pocket and clicking.

From the smoke, a red light burst to life, followed by a clunk and clicker from the shadow. 

“I have no tolerance for liars.” 

A metal hand stretched out and grabbed Petra by the neck, slamming her to the wall. 

“Honest, sir… I thought… thought it was…” she struggled to reply.

“You thought? You thought you could get away with deceiving me!”

From behind squinted eyes, Petra saw at that moment, a silhouette emerge from the crowd. 

https://flic.kr/p/2sBdT4L

“Stop!” A voice came.

Water suddenly hit across her face and the droid released its grip.

When her eyes adjusted she saw Sillax covered ears to paws in water, looking as if he had fallen into a river. In front of him, a scavenger had fallen to the ground, gripping onto an open vase of water. 

…

last installment:LINK