Her boots thudded over and over in the durasteel hangar. Her shuttle sitting just a few steps away in the classically seedy spaceport. Alex was frustrated…no that wasn’t right…angry. The Grandmaster’s face was anything but the picture of Jedi serenity. Her eyes stared dangers and a frown pulled the corners of her mouth down. A century of life had passed her by. A century filled with a hundred different paths. Many of which she had forgotten. Many that she had prayed the galaxy had forgotten. Most of her life was spent as a Jedi…but not all. She snorted in annoyance. The not all piece was what reared its ugly head.
Alex was essentially an orphan. Her parents wasting their unusually long life on the pleasures of spice. Their daughter thrown into the trash. She’d made the best of it in the Corellian slums. For a decade or more, Alex had stolen, drank, bullied, threatened, and thrown herself into all manner of crimes. Her life worth very little. Her self-worth even less. That was until the Jedi found her. They gave her a home, a life, a purpose. Those days boosting speeders and licking dirty boots forgotten. The Morellian Jedi had assumed everyone from that part of her life was dead. Lost to old age or swallowed by the slums. Fuck, she had forgotten more names than she remembered. That was until a coms message found a way to her.
A name she did remember. Anadar…the gang leader who first pulled her from the streets. Saved her life really. He should be dead. He was definitely dead. Yet…the message on her datapad was clear. “Hi, Allie…it’s probably time we talked.” No one called her Allie. Not in 90 odd years. She’d left that name behind…where it belonged…in the slums. There were few people she trusted enough to hunt down whoever was playing games with the Grandmaster. So, she waited for Sevrin.
@Sreeya
