One Last Goodbye.

Light Tramp Freighter Nawarmaku, Mos Eisley Spaceport, Tatooine.
Again Noxx has to pause in her packing and angrily scrub the tears out of her eyes and take some deep breath before resuming. It doesn't make much difference as her vision immediately blurs and the tears just keep coming. “Gods be damned” she declares out loud, dropping the partially filled duffel to the deck and flopping on her bunk. 'But it's not your bunk anymore is it ?' Her angry inner voice chides her. 'You lost it, like everything else, like Mom. Just let it slip away without a fight.' Her inner voice continues with malice driving her up off the bunk “No.” She shouts out loud, the word echoing back at her from the bare walls of the small room. Wiping her eyes clear of the last few tears she whispers the damning words. “It was Soom's ship, Soom's call, not mine. He chose to give-up, not me.” It sends a terrible chill through her stomach to hear them spoken out loud, the words her inner voice has been screaming since Soom had received that damned notice a day out from Tatooine. She wanted to run, had immediately started plotting a course to keep them out of FGTU territories. Instead Soom just....... gave up. She will always remember that shattered expression on his face and that damned shake in his voice as he told her to land on Tatooine, that it was over. His spirit had shattered in that one fateful moment and he went from a rather spry old Captain to a broken old Duro just waiting to die. What hurt her the most was there was nothing she could do about it. His health had been declining rather rapidly this last year, it had even started affecting his memory. 'A dangerous flaw for a freighter captain....'
Her thoughts are interrupted by the noise of a foreign set of heavy boots on the decking outside the cubicle that had been her sanctuary for the last eleven years. The door hisses open to reveal a young Saurin in gray armour with FGTU markings. Without waiting for him she barks sharply at him. “Bugger off. I still have ten minutes on the chrono.” Not even waiting for a response she slaps the door plate, closing the door again. Irritated by the goon but relieved for the interruption of that spiral of thoughts. 'Focus on what needs being done, not what can't be changed.' She repeats the mental mantra as she shoves the last of her possessions into the duffel, angrily ignoring the shake in her hands as she fights with the clasps. With one last look around she pulls her bulky coat on over her coveralls, fussing briefly with her weapons belt. “Good-bye my friend.” She pulls off a glove to place her palm on the wall beside the bunk in a silent farewell. With nothing left to do she puts her glove back on, slings the duffel over her shoulder before slapping the door panel and walking out her room for the last time. Leaving part of her heart behind with every step through her beloved home. She knows every cranny of the battered old freighter and within it's hull were the happiest moments of her life. She didn't want to let go of that but forced herself to keep walking and she finds herself on the gangplank, face to face with the sneering Saurin. Immediately her face muscles bunch as she fights her instinct to strike out, instead she takes a deep breath and settles her features into a hard, unreadable expression that offered no sympathy or warmth. What Soom liked to call her 'outside face'. Without breaking stride she clips his shoulder with her overloaded duffel in passing, taking some small bit of satisfaction as the Saurin struggles to keep his balance on the of the gangplank. Sadly he doesn't fall off but still barks out something in his native language. She ignores him and walks briskly and angrily out of the hanger without looking back. Once in the main concourse she slows her pace to match the crowds. Even at 03:00 the spaceport was a busy place crowded with the sordid dregs of the galaxy, like rat roaches swarming in the darkness of the Tatooine night. Soon with rising sun they would scatter, being replaced with the usual desperate peoples and petty criminals. 'FGTU at least has done that much for Mos Eisley, if you don't mind being terrorized by FGTU mercenaries supposedly there to protect you.' She steps out of the spaceport into the cold night-time air and automatically claps her respirator on, blocking the rank odours blowing in with the sandy wind. Once her goggles are in place and the hood of her old mottled coat pulled up she is unrecognizable. Satisfied, she starts walking towards a small cantina with one hand holding her duffel strap and the other hand resting on her Model 53, eyes constantly on the move but they all blessed avoided her. 'One last task to do, one more good-bye before we are again adrift in this galaxy. Yayyyy Me'

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