At the beginning of the Clone Wars, Moatia Rhaden is granted padawan status, made a Commander, and shipped across the galaxy. Nothing seems to make sense, and Moatia is lost at every turn.
But at least she has her Master and her men beside her.
~ T...
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"Zipper?" Moatia asked, surprised to see him working in the prison. She tucked the sling behind her back, half afraid Neeka had called ahead and told him to make sure she wore it.
"Ah, hello, Commander," he said. He was standing behind a blast-proof ray shield in a small office. "Surprised to see you here."
"I'm surprised to see you here," Moatia countered.
The armored man shrugged. "I suppose that's what I get for sticking my neck out where it doesn't belong."
"What did you do?" Moatia asked.
"The right thing." Zipper nodded. Well, that certainly wasn't confusing.
"Just check her in, Zip," the clone sitting in a chair in the office said. It looked like he was clicking through security footage.
"We get there when we get there, Clock." Zipper shook his head, his helmet bobbling slightly. "Alright, Commander. I'm going to need your lightsaber and your commlink. You can get them back when you leave."
A small tray slid open and Moatia placed her things inside. It slammed shut and Zipper picked them up. "Thanks, Commander. Hey, your lightsaber is heavier than I thought."
"Is it?" Moatia asked. She hadn't really thought of it as being heavy before.
"Sure is." Zipper put both her saber and her commlink in a separate bucket stored on the far wall. "You're all good to go now, Commander."
"Thanks, Zipper," Moatia said as she continued down the dark hallway.
She pushed open the next door and a guard was waiting for her on a small platform, standing there with a long staff weapon Moatia didn't know the name of.
He pushed a button and the door to the platform opened for Moatia to step on.
Moatia felt nervous as the guard led her to the cell, but she hoped it didn't show.
She tried not to fidget as she pulled on her braids. The guard was silent as he moved the large floating platform forward.
Row after row of cells were stacked on top of each other. Instead of solid doors, the prisoners were contained by glowing shields. The golden light from each shield cast the otherwise dark prison in a soft light.
Moatia drew in a deep breath. This was going to be fine. Talking to a prisoner was probably one of the safest things she had done in the past year. It would be fine.
The platform floated calmy up to one cell. Inside, Moatia could see a small figure hunched over. That must be the boy that got caught bombing the Coruscanti square.
The shield faltered before shutting off, allowing Moatia to step in. She nodded her thanks to the clone.
The shield flickered back on and the platform drifted away.
