A ship landed , wheezing and breaking down, in a nearly forgotten spaceport, in a bedraggled town. The residents were surprised, but even more surprised by what came out.
A slim girl, perhaps sixteen, with Mandalorian battle armor and a helmet under her arm. But worst of all were her eyes. Deep blue and tired and broken and strong- and speaking of untold horrors.
The young Mandalorian trudged along the road alone. Her dusty boots thumped on the road. One hand constantly drifted to the blaster at her side.
A pirate stared at her, then mistook the girl for easy prey. His mistake. As he lunged, she jumped back, kicked him the face, and threw him to the ground in an easy movement. She was not to be threatened.
The girl turned. Her broken heart had not healed. She doubted it ever would be. The message in her satchel, from her mother, was not delivered. Her shoulders hunched. Alone and without her clan, she couldn't do anything.
With a scowl, she turned to discover who had knocked her out of her funk. A grim, seedy-looking Twi'lek was watching her. His hands rested inches away from his blasters.
"Drake Harleen. You?"
The young Mandalorian offered a thin smile. "I'm nothing." She turned and continued her trudge.
Her ship- broken down. Her food- depleted. Everything- gone. She blinked away the tears.
"Hey! Mando! Wateva your name is!"
She gritted her teeth. "What!" she snapped.
Before she could figure out what he meant, he was gone. Leaving her alone, tired, desolate, and abandoned.
The stars were cruel.