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NAME: Nibsani
SPECIES: Twi’lek
AGE: 23
SEX: Female
HEIGHT: 5’6
WEIGHT: 130lbs
EYES: Dark brown
HAIR: Blue lekku with black patterns
SKIN: blue
FORCE SENSITIVE: Not even a little bit
+ Where’d she go? Nibsani is an escaped slave. As a result, her first reaction upon entering any ship, casino, or building is to know who’s there and how to get out. Good luck trying to trap her in a net, her freedom was hard won, and she guards it jealously
- Unforgettable: Nibsani’s colours and markings are pretty unique. That means that she has to be careful about where she goes and who might see her, bounties are quite effective motivators for bringing rogue slaves home to their masters, after all
- I know what I like: Sneaking around in the middle of the night to practice with blaster pistols for a few hours was all she could risk doing without getting caught. As a result, while Nibsani knows her way around a blaster pistol, she knows next to nothing about other weapons, and without her own brand by her side, her bark becomes worse than her bite
- Aw come on, I can take ‘em: Nibsani escaped her master with a hefty bounty of creds and a shuttle to boot. It’s almost not surprising that she ended up with kind of a big head from it. While she might be aware of all the exits to any building she goes into, the twi’lek often cuts her escapes very close, closer, perhaps, than she ought to
It had been a decade since the mercenary band had killed the governor and his family and pawned off his belongings, her included. They had been nice, and for a while her life had been good, it had been what her mother had wanted for her.
When the Hutt had first bought her she had hated it, hated him. She fought and bit and screamed and scratched, she had cried and punched and hissed and swore. If it had not been so entertaining to the guards, it would have landed her an early grave. But there were many… lessons, and eventually she made peace with herself. She had become a true slave; her master’s will made to be all that mattered. That was what they tried to teach her. That was what they thought she’d finally accepted.
Instead, the young Twi’lek had simply gone quiet. She had learned that being loud got you hurt. She had learned that biting and scratching earned you the whip or the cell. So, she did everything she was told with the proper smile and quietly performed her duties without complaint. She walked softly with her head down, she served drinks, she danced, she kept quiet. She was proper. However, she was no slave. With each passing day she watched, listened and studied. Slaves were only slaves as long as they had a master. All she had to do was kill the Hutt. So she bided her time, honing her skills of subterfuge and waiting for the perfect opportunity.
Eventually, that opportunity came.
It came in the form of a most extravagant party thrown by her master. He was wooing some wealthy arms dealers, and had chosen to do so against the backdrop of fine food, fine drinks, and fine company. Music wafted about the hall, blending with the general din of voices as everyone who was anyone mingled with one another.
Nibsani and a few other twi’lek slaves had been adorned in expensive finery. Beneath the sheer fabric of her ‘gown’, no expense had been spared. She wore expensive bands on her lekku, bands on her wrists and ankles, jewels and gems gleamed from necklaces and belly rings. She even had some sort of delicate chain draped around her hips. In all, she was wearing easily a million credits.
More than enough to begin a new life.
She had to bargain with one of the other girls to get the route by the door. But it had been worth it. All night she had watched with keen eyes as the guests of her master had come and gone, eyeing ships and shuttles, picking out an escape route, picking a favourite.
It felt like forever before her moment finally appeared, but when it did, she wasted no time.
A Kel-dor had arrived in a shuttle. It was small, tiny even, but quicker than anything else she’d seen all night. Even better, the Kel-dor that owned it seemed distracted. He had barely glanced at her as she’d stood by the door, tray of drinks in hand. The shuttle was open, clearly intending to return and collect something from it. Slipping away quietly when draped in tinkling, sparkling jewels was no mean feat, but the opportunity was exactly what she had been waiting for.
Her timing was perfect. Her footfalls soft. All that dancing had paid off it seemed, as the jewels barely made a sound as she slipped across the lot towards the shuttle.
There had been shouting when the ramp had receded and she started the engines. But she didn’t care. Turning her eyes to the stars, Nibsani grinned gleefully, lifted the shuttle from the ground, and broke free.
Single Blue Twi'lek
The Price of Freedom is Eternal Vigilance (Clan Australis)
Falling Again Each Day
What Have You Gotten Yourself into Now?
Ni Kar'tayli Darasuum Gar
The Long Road Home
