- 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦.
For as long as Kasia Torelo can remember, luck and survival have gone hand-in-hand.
Kasia was only seven years old when the Empire attacked her planet. Singled out for their telep...
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Kasia frowned as she and Mando made their way through the relatively deserted town, the heat pressing down on her like a suffocating blanket. Gods how she wished she could go back to Sorgan with its trees and nice weather and utter lack of sand. Because ugh, the sand.
She hated the way it got in her shoes as she walked, the way that at any light gust of wind it flew right in her face, scratching her skin raw and stinging her eyes. It was coarse and rough and irritating and it got everywhere, and she hated it.
Kasia raised an eyebrow as she and Din passed a spot in the road lined with stormtrooper helmets on spikes.
Well, on the bright side, at least it looks like the locals are just about as friendly with the Imps as we are.
Finally, after walking for what seemed like forever, Kasia and Din found their way to a tavern, Kasia sighing in relief at the more moderate temperature inside the clay structure. She sauntered towards the bar, Mando behind her as he scanned the inhabitants of the room.
As she paused in front of the bar, Kasia opened her mouth to order a glass of Corellian wine before Mando's voice in her head halted her.
Don't even think about it. Need I remind you that we literally have no money?
At his silent reminder, Kasia's mood soured further. Gods she could use a drink. She hated being poor.
"Hey droid, I'm a hunter," Mando spoke up in lieu of a sulking Kasia, grabbing the attention of the bartender droid. "I'm lookin' for some work."
"Unfortunately, the Bounty Guild no longer operates from Tatooine," the droid informed them in a squeaky voice which made Kasia suddenly feel the need to hit something. Could the programmer not have tweaked the modulator to make the mechanical voice at least slightly better?
"We're not looking for Guild work," Mando responded with a sigh, already tired of the conversation and the evident refusal.
"I am afraid that does not improve your situation. At least by my calculation."
"Think again, tin can," a voice suddenly spoke up from behind Kasia and Mando.
Slowly, she and Din turned to find a young man in his twenties perhaps at a nearby booth, his legs propped nonchalantly on the table in front of him. He wasn't bad looking she supposed. Certainly not her type though.
Suddenly, a memory of her friend Han Solo in the same exact position flashed through Kasia's mind. The two of them had met when they were both about twenty and Kasia needed his help smuggling her through an Imperial blockade. To pay him back, they had hit the casinos, using Kasia's skillful mindreading and manipulation paired with his sheer dumb luck to make some serious bank.
At the memory, she felt her lips curl up at the edges, reminded of all the good times the two of them had shared—and all the money they had won.
Gods, Solo. I wonder what he's been up to since we parted ways.
