Winters are mild on New Farrfin, but that doesn’t stop the occasional vortex from cropping up. Outside under the moonlight was a blanket of white. Whistling wind producing the occasional creak all through the night. And seated by the hearth cradling the cubs - Khaji Po rocked gently all the while singing.
“Ohh hush thee, my babies, the night is behind us, and black are the waters that sparkled so green. The moon, o'er the combers, looks downward to find us - at rest in the hollows that rustle between.”
Breela, ever the struggling homemaker, gave up her fruitless loom in favor of the view.
“Where billow meets billow, there soft be thy pillow; Ah, weary wee flipperlings, curl at thy ease! The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee, asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas.” Feeling her eyes on him he turns and smiles. “Is it bed time luv?”
Both cubs look up in protest. “Noooo, you haven’t finished yet!” Whines Tor.
“Haven’ finish yet!” echoes Zan’ja.
Khaji and Bree exchanged grins before she sighed, “Okay, once more. But after that it’s off to bed.”
A sudden deceleration jerked her awake. Panicked she checked the cabin window to see if there was trouble. Relieved, she settled back into her bunk. Just another routine course correction. It wouldn’t be long before they make another jump to hyperspace. In the meantime, her mind wandered, and with it returned the pit in her stomach.
A little less than a week ago she and her friend Jubb raided a slaver’s lair. For them it was a relatively uneventful affair. Just another day in the life of a Jedi. The slavers were White Maw, they had been raiding up and down the sector. But after the raid, picking through the spoils, and upon closer inspection. It became clear that slavery had been a new vocation for them. Their last attacks had been passenger liners and a Zygerrian transport. But before that trade convoys and cargo ships. A grim departure from their usual modus operandi. Breela suspected that it was no coincidence that the Zygerrians were the pivot point
While flipping through the manifest a little one amongst the recently liberated started crying. She absently smiled as a female hum lulled the babe back to sleep. And otherwise, paid no mind to the incident. Until after some time, the hum’s familiarity grew haunting.
‘I know that song,’ she thought.
With a start she raced over to the prisoners and found the babe and the girl. The infant was being tended by a child, not a mother.
“Hello there,” Breela kneeled down, “is this your baby brother or sister?”
The girl looked up as the infant let out a little cough, “Sister,” she said, “they took away dad first, and then our mom.”
‘Bastards’, Breela thought, checking the baby’s temperature, “Was it your mom that taught you that song?”
The girl shook her head, “A girl like you taught it to me.”
Breela’s heart sank and she swallowed. “Can you describe this girl?” She asked softly.
“She was nice. Sang when we were scared. But they took her away like mom.” She looked at Breela in contemplation. “Are you, her mommy?”
Breela sniffed pitifully, her eyes welling up with tears. “May I hold her?” She skillfully took the babe in her arms and checked its stomach, “Shhh,” the baby coughed and sputtered, “how about, let’s you and I go find Jubbs. Then you can tell me some more about this girl that looked like me. Hmm?”
Flying off the bunk into the lavatory she succumbed once more to another wave of nausea. The Zygerrians had had two Farghul amongst their cargo. No details except that one was male, and the other female. It was elation at first. ‘My babies are alive!’ She thought. And this thought sustained her for some time. Then as she waved the little-ones goodbye. Like a lead weight another much darker implication came crashing down. ‘My babies are… slaves.’
Jubbs had talked her off a cliff that day. Helped keep her rational, keep her calm. Khaji had after all been an entertainer on Farrfin once. As such he often published his music through old connections. It stood to reason that he might have published the lullaby. Still…
They had disappeared during the sacking of Coruscant. Two years of ceaseless searching yielded nothing. Now, now after all of this time, the first glimpse of sun comes through the greenest, darkest, nastiest, cloud bank she had ever seen. Where had they been? Had anyone hurt them? How long have they been slaves?
So many questions and only one place to find answers.