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Prompt 2.
Mon Aug 20, 2018 11:01pm

((Not an escape in the traditional sense, but I'd say this one counts.))

8386071 stood still, stripped to the waist with his arms bound in front of him as the Mandalorian circled him slowly.

“How old?”

“Twenty-two years and four months,” Ressh replied. “Son of a human whore and who knows what; a mongrel, most likely.”

“That doesn’t concern me.” The Mandalorian, Jaleth Ellea, tapped 8386071’s arm with a gauntleted hand, producing a faint clinking noise. “How old’s this thing?”

“Six years, same as the eye.”

“That’ll need replacing,” Jaleth muttered. “He got a name?”

Ressh grunted and shook his head.

“You’ll need a name,” Jaleth said, and 8386071 felt a small thrill of hope. Could it really be happening? He was leaving the palace? But what if his new master was crueler than the current one? Though nothing could be as bad as the breeding, could it? Or was he tempting fate with such thinking?

Jaleth turned to Ressh. “I’ll take him.”

“Three thousand credits,” Ressh said, and 8386071’s eyes widened, certain the Mandalorian would be dissuaded by the price—but Jaleth simply handed over his credit chip without a word.

The next hour was a whirlwind of activity. His chest was cut open and the detonator removed, and then he was hurried away to Jaleth’s ship. He’d never been to the nicer parts of the palace before, let alone the Master’s private shuttle landing, and he looked around with wide eyes at the gleaming floors and carved walls—and then he was bundled onto the ship without so much as a chance to say goodbye to Jeyla.

Jaleth piloted the shuttle into orbit, and 8386071 risked lifting his eyes off the floor to peek out the window. Tatooine was… somehow small, seeing it from this high up. He’d been told the planets were round, but until that moment, he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d believed it.

The cuffs that bound his wrists suddenly opened and fell to the floor with a clank, and Jaleth returned the remote opener to his pocket.

“So.” Jaleth spoke and 8386071 jumped, his gaze returning to his feet. “You’re a good fighter. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you, sir,” 8386071 finally said when it became clear the Mandalorian was waiting for him to speak.

Jaleth waved a dismissive hand. “None of that ‘sir’ business, d’you hear? You’re free now.”

8386071’s breath hitched. “F-free?” he stuttered.

“Free,” Jaleth repeated. “So how about you look me in the eye as an equal?”

Slowly, 8386071 did so, surprised to see Jaleth’s mouth turned up in a smile.

“That’s more like it, son,” Jaleth said, and 8386071 hesitantly smiled back. “Tell me, you were born on Tatooine, right? Ever left it before?”

“Yes sir, to both questions,” 8386071 said. “I’ve been taken offworld before to participate in prize fights on Nar Shaddaa.”

“Jaleth,” he corrected 8386071, who ducked his head in consternation. “You’re free now. Don’t call me sir again.”

“Yes si—yes… Jaleth.”

Jaleth nodded, steepling his fingers together. “You could do things out there that I’d never seen a human being do without the use of the Force,” he said. “You ever been tested before?”

8386071 shook his head.

“Huh.” Jaleth scratched his chin, then shrugged. “So, way I see it, you’ve got a couple of options now. I drop you off at a spaceport of your choosing with a bit of money and some proper clothes, and send you on to live your life as you see fit… or, you can stay with me, if you want, and I’ll teach you everything I know.”


“Everything. But first—you’re gonna need a name. Got any ideas?”

8386071 shook his head again. Jaleth shrugged and pulled out a datapad, scrolling through it until he tossed it at 8386071.

“There you go.”

8386071 looked down at what he could only assume was a list of names. “I, um… I can’t…”

Jaleth pinched the bridge of his nose and 8386071 tensed, expecting a beating, but Jaleth motioned for him to throw the datapad back.

“My quarters are just that way,” Jaleth said, pointing. “First door on the left. Help yourself to some clothes and come back in here.”

After a moment’s hesitation, 8386071 hurried to do so. The clothing he found was so soft, and clean, and none of the fabric contained any holes. It even smelled clean, he thought, holding a shirt up to his nose and inhaling appreciatively. He pulled it on, marveling at how silky the fabric felt compared to the rough cloth he was used to.

Not wanting to keep Jaleth waiting, 8386071 went back to the bridge, where Jaleth was sitting, his pilot’s chair spun to face the copilot’s.

“Sit down,” Jaleth said, gesturing at the copilot seat. “I’ll read you the list for now, and you can follow along. See if you can figure out what the letters mean and all.”

8386071 sat and leaned forward to look at the datapad as Jaleth began slowly reading the names aloud.

“Aarol,” Jaleth said, moving his finger as he spoke. “Abramos. Adrinne…”

They remained drifting in Tatooine’s orbit until 8386071 was soon haltingly reading along with Jaleth, though his guesses at pronunciation left a lot to be desired.

“Lo… Loral” 8386071 sounded out. “Lor… son…” Something seemed to click and he pointed at it. “Lorson. I like this one.”

“Lorson’s a good name. Nice and strong.” Jaleth smiled. “There will be plenty of time to pick out a last name later. I’d like to get us out of here first, and then we can talk some more.”

Lorson nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

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