Crimson Guard

2 - The Offer

Some people like sand. They go to the beach and play in it, swim in water full of it, some people even went to Tatooine on purpose. Yazasha hated it. It was hot when the suns were out, and freezing when they weren't. It coated everything inside and out. And it really hurt when it got in a split lip.

Yazasha pushed herself up from the ground just as the man from Lothal swung again. He had hit her over a dozen times already, finally knocking her to the ground, and he thought this one just might win him the fight. He might be the first person ever to win against Yazasha, and he would be free. His master had promised him that much if he fought well, as well as a part of the winnings.

He should have known better.

The right hook would have been a knockout blow if it had ever hit her head at all. Instead, she let out a yell and flipped him over onto his back. He scrambled to get to his feet, but he knew he had lost as soon as she hit him with a right hook of her own. She was even stronger than she looked, though she certainly couldn't be mistaken for a weakling, and the fight turned in her favor in an instant. She hadn't even been close to losing, he had only thought she was. Yazasha had wanted him to think he was winning, and he had played right into her trap. The crowd screamed and cheered, but he saw nothing in her eyes that indicated enjoyment. The mask that covered her face hid this from the rest of the world, but it was then that he saw that she was as trapped as he was. Most of the galaxy thought she was hired by the Hutts, given training by them and expected to win. But he could see that only two of these beliefs were correct. Unfortunately, he also saw that she would not spare him if Jabba ordered his death, just as stories of her told. The last thing the man from Lothal heard was Jabba's voice yelling an order to his Champion, and the last thing he saw was Yazasha's face, blank and hard as stone.

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She could still hear the crowd cheering, but Yazasha could not have cared less. All she felt, above all anger and pain, was a mix of relief and joy. If she felt safe enough to do so, she could have cried. Of course, she would have to get over the shock of it first. Right now, the emotions involved were so overwhelming she couldn't really feel anything but numb. Yazasha pulled out the only bag she owned, and began to stuff it full of the few possessions she had. The small house she had didn't contain much that she owned, mostly because she wanted it that way. When she was sold to the Hutts as a successful fighter three years ago, Jabba had laughed and made her a deal. If she won every single fight he put her down for, she would get a sum of the winnings for her own.

The Zygerrian who had her before had promised the same deal as soon as she won her first fight when she was twelve. He had been the one to start giving her training, not to mention better food and clothing. With the bets Jabba paid people to put against her, her income had grown rapidly. Now, after years of saving every single credit she could, she finally had enough to buy her freedom, whatever Jabba tried to throw in on top of the rather large monetary value she had racked up over the years. He had no idea about her past earnings, and it was going to be amazing to see the smug look wiped off his disgusting face.

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It was just as satisfying when the great slug was forced to give her change. After all the years she had spent bending to his whims, deciding which form of payment she wanted her change in was a wonderful experience. No later than two hours after this exchange, Yazasha was on her way to the nearest way off world. Away from the blasted sand and heat, anywhere but here. If she never saw sand again in her life it would be too soon.

The last thing she expected to see was an Imperial Official standing in front of her as she made to enter the spaceport. Officers were not uncommon on Tattooine, the rumors said that Darth Vader himself had a special interest in this particular city, but even the most brainless among the population knew enough not to talk about it. Still, the Empire never bothered with little ports like this. She would have assumed he was simply there on a random inspection if the man had not stepped in front of her, painfully formal.